Sometimes you can't make it on your own
by dontstealmyvitaminies
Summary: Canterbury Zimmerman, aka Ella Bennette, lead singer of Kipling, the latest thing to hit the music scene; a walking enigma to Will Darcy, selfproclaimed miscellaneous musician. But what is it that makes her so unrestrainable? Uncontainable? Untouchabable?
1. Meet Canterbury

Ella weaved her way through the slightly crowded pub in London's fashionable district, her dark curls tied back and her blue-g

A/N: My first story on , but I've been reading all the ones on here for about two years :D Please read and comment :D

**Disclaimer: My name is Evie, not Jane Austen…**

Ella weaved her way through the slightly crowded pub in London's fashionable district, her dark curls tied back and her blue-grey eyes hidden with dark sunglasses. She looked oddly pale under the neon lights of the nightclub, and very inconspicuous in her choice of clothing, dark blue jeans and a white tank top (a picture of Calcifer, the fire demon from Hayao Miyazaki's film Howl's Moving Castle on the bust) covered with a long grey cardigan, her black All Stars peeking out from beneath her jeans. She made her way to a small booth with a little sign saying 'RESERVED' and took a seat, the security guard nodding from his position by the manager's office.

Ella threw her handbag down in the seat beside hers, a very cute chibi cupcake that had a zipper at the top. She bought it online from Queen of Dorks and adored it, in fact she adored anything from that cute Japanese chibi manga style that Western civilization didn't see enough of. She pulled her legs beneath her and waited patiently as one of the bar girls approached.

"Would you like a drink, miss?" she girl asked, pretending that she didn't recognize Ella.

"Err… sure. Can I have a shot of watermelon liqueur with lemonade?" she requested, as the girl smiled.

"Will that be all, Miss Zimmerman?" the waitress asked, as Ella nodded, and took off her sunglasses. Her drink was brought over a few minutes later in a tall glass, Ella sipping the green liquid gratefully as she settled back in the booth, pleased to note that the music wasn't that loud from her position.

The reporter arrived about five minutes later, a pleasant looking woman who introduced herself as Ginny.

"Sorry I started without you," Ella apologised, indicating her drink as Ginny took a seat.

"No problem, what are you drinking? Absinthe?" she questioned curiously, setting down a small black tape recorder and taking out three notepads.

"Nope, watermelon liqueur with lemonade," replied Ella, waiting politely as the waitress approached once more to get the reporter a drink. She ordered the same as Ella, which wasn't too much of a big surprise.

"So, may I call you Canterbury, or just Miss Zimmerman?" Ginny asked, taking out a pen. Ella glanced over her with her dark eyes, this woman looked harmless.

"Canterbury, I suppose," she replied.

"And how are you finding London?" she questioned, scribbling something down.

"I like it," replied Ella. "We've played two shows here already and I like the vibe that London has, but I really am supposed to be here for business, not pleasure," she added, with a slight flicker in the corner of her lips. "I have a place here as well, which is where I've been staying this tour," she added.

"So, I thought we would begin with some background information," said Ginny, as Ella sighed, and sipped her drink.

"I was born in France, East of Marseille to be specific, it's on the South-East coast of France, near the Mediterranean, my Dad is an editor and my mother was a ballet dancer, I mostly went to selective schools for my education, I have a diploma in French Literature and my youth was spent mostly swimming, climbing trees or borrowing my father's vinyls and books," she replied, the speech memorised off by heart.

"And how old were you when you started to play music?" Ginny questioned.

"Err… I don't know. I started playing when I was little, I began playing the piano when I was seven, I think, the guitar when I was ten, and I've been singing for who knows how long," she answered.

"And Kipling? When did the band become a band?" she asked.

"About four years ago, I suppose, Denzel and I met about then, he was on holiday in Paris, and Carmen and I met _years_ ago, we all loved to play music and we just decided to go for it, Carmen and I always wanted to start a band and so Denzel was just a welcome addition," she explained.

"And what about the name?"

"I have a thing for symbology, and Rudyard Kipling is my father's favourite author, I like his books, and I like the name," she replied simply.

"So you've released two albums over the past three years, not to mention three EPs," began Ginny. "Tell me about _To be Kipling's Vice_," she requested politely.

"Well it was our first EP," began Ella. "We recorded _Stupid Song_ – which was the first track – in the front room of my apartment and then the other four songs came out quite easily, and we sent them around to whoever we could," she explained. "By that stage we already had a bit of a cult following in Paris and the amount of online fans were astronomical, and _Stupid Song _became a bit of a hit in Europe," she continued. "But it wasn't until our third EP, which was _Restless Farewell_, which had seven covers of Bob Dylan songs on it that we got noticed – _Darling_ had slipped by pretty much unnoticed by the non-French population because it was all in French – but with _Restless Farewell_ we got ten times the support that _To be Kipling's Vice_ and _Stupid Song_ had gotten us," she informed Ginny. "And then when our cover of '_All along the Watchtower'_ was put on the _Chillout Sessions_ contemplation CD everything was just becoming huge, Sinik did a remix of '_All along the Watchtower' _and _Stupid Song _went to the American and UK charts, and that's when we got our record deal," she finished.

"Tell me about the next two albums," requested Ginny, as Ella tapped the table thoughtfully.

"Well '_Moth from the Flame_' was written in Paris, Carmen, Denzel and I had three weeks in which to have twelve tracks written and ready to be recorded in London, so we were really pressed for time," she began. "We started arguing a lot, and in after the first week we had almost nothing and none of us could stand each other. I locked myself in the music room for eighteen hours straight with nothing but some sheet music, a few pens and caffeine pills, and when I walked – or rather fell out – I had the first five tracks of 'Moth from the Flame' in my hand," she explained. "The rest of it just came naturally. We flew over two weeks later and recorded it, and then we started playing some gigs whilst the whole thing was being processed, we toured as the supporting act in the UK and France for Damien Rice, Snow Patrol and The Verve, which gave us a whole new audience, the album did well, we recorded the next one under nicer conditions, and we're almost finished our first world tour," she finished.

"What's going to happen after this tour?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Well I suppose we'll continue writing, we want to record our next album by May," she replied. "We don't care how well it goes, because 'Moth from the Flame' and 'Keep the Light on' have just done so well that we can't expect much more success," she shrugged. "But we like touring, so we'll probably keep going," she added.

"And tell me, Canterbury, how is your love life going?" Ginny asked curiously, leaning forwards. She had been waiting to ask that all evening, Ella realised.

"I'm single right now, and I don't mind at all," she replied, as Ginny's face fell.

"Ah well… so what's going on in the next few days in London?" she asked curiously.

"Err… we have two more shows in London, then we'll be going to the Brit Awards tomorrow night, and that'll be the end of the tour, I'm going to stay in London for a while before I spend some time at home with Dad," she explained.

"I suppose that this is all I need for the article, you've been quite helpful, Canterbury," said Ginny, turning off her tape recorder. "Stay for another drink or two?" she asked, as Ella shook her head.

"Nah, I'm meeting some friends across town," she replied. "Thanks for the chat," she said, standing up and then tossing some money on the table for their drinks. "See you later," she said, weaving her way back out of the club.

It only took Ella a few minutes to get a taxi before she was zipping across London to Charlie Bingley's apartment. About twenty minutes later she was climbing out of the taxi and walking into the lobby of Charlie's building, strolling into the elevator and pressing the button for the penthouse.

Ella was really tired. It had been a long tour, they started just after their second album had been released and she was exhausted, she couldn't wait to get back to Nice and relax on the beach in her father's quaint, but aging villa. But she had promised Jayne that she would spend some time in London with her, and needed to keep that promise. It jus meant that she had to be Canterbury Zimmerman for a few more months, before she could return to being Ella-Rose Bennette.

She knocked on the door of Charlie's apartment and it was opened almost immediately, Ella was greeted with only a squeal of delight before she was practically tackled to the ground by a bundle of blonde energy.

"Ella!" was the gleeful cry that she was met with, as Jayne squeezed her best friend tightly around the waist.

"Jayne, I saw you last night!" replied Ella, trying to regain her breath.

"But now I'm engaged!" Jayne pointed out, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"I was _there_, remember? You were just dating one moment and then you two sneak off together, you come back engaged," she reminded her friend, who was giggling and radiating with happiness. Ella stepped back and looked at Jayne. Jayne was a model, she was tall and leggy and blonde hair with blue eyes, the most beautiful tanned skin goddess anyone could ever meet, and she was also the kindest woman alive. She and Charlie had been dating for barely a year before they got engaged the night before.

"Come on in, Charlotte and Denny are here too, as well as Charlie's sister and his friend, you'll love him, he's _so_ polite," Jayne exclaimed, pulling Ella through the hallway, which was stylishly modern, all white and silver with occasional bright prints. Charlie was a well-to-do owner of a publishing company that owned the magazine Jayne normally modelled for, which was how the two met. He was a friendly and funny guy, if not a little bit bemused in some situations.

"I just got back from an interview, a bit dull," commented Ella conversationally to Jayne, who put her handbag in the coat closet by the door. They walked through the hall to the front sitting room, where a fire was burning merrily to ward off the winter coldness that came with the middle of January in London.

"Look who I found!" Jayne said brightly, as Ella glanced over the company in the room. She knew most of them very well, Charlie, of course, was there, and then there was Charlotte and Denny, Ella's band mates, but there was also a thin redheaded woman with a fixed smirk and sharp hazel eyes to match her sharp features sitting opposite Charlie, and another man, who looked oddly familiar.

He was sitting down, but she could tell he was tall. He was wearing jeans and a grey V-neck sweater over a plain white shirt, with three buttons going down the chest, and a pair of expensive black loafers. His hair was quite dark and fairly lengthy, reaching his collar, a sharp contrast to his platinum eyes. His features were very handsome and masculine, but he looked a little affronted when Ella walked into the room, as if company had offended him somehow. He was ridiculously handsome, but also cold at the same time.

"Aren't you that girl from that band?" the redheaded woman questioned, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as Ella walked over to the couch.

"This is Caroline Hurst, Charlie's sister," Jayne explained to Ella. "You might know Ella as Canterbury Zimmerman from Kipling, but we just call her Ella," she added, as Ella sat on top of Denny, and held out her hand to shake Caroline's.

"Err… it's a pleasure," Caroline muttered warily, clearly affronted by Ella's behaviour. Ella took her hand away when she realised that Caroline didn't want to even touch her, a slight frown on her pink lips. "What interesting hair clips you have… I think I saw similar one's when I was last in Tokyo… on a five year old," Caroline added, with an annoyingly sarcastic voice as she eyed Ella's Hello Kitty hair clips that were pushing her fringe back from her pale face.

"Umm, thanks?" Ella replied, a little awkwardly, laughing slightly as Denny fidgeted beneath her.

"Honey, you need to get your own seat," Denny said, poking Ella in the ribs. "You're crushing my dignity," he added, Ella chuckling as she got off her friend, and kissed each cheek.

"Hey Charlotte, I thought you wanted a long night's sleep!" said Ella teasingly, when she hugged her friend, who normally went under the alias of 'Carmen Luc', Denny being 'Denzel Jon'.

"Sleeping is boring," replied Charlotte cheekily, as Ella rolled her eyes and claimed an empty armchair for her own, right next to the couch where the quiet, handsome man was sitting.

"Hey Elle, this is Wilhelm, but you can call him Darcy," Charlie introduced, as Ella glanced over to the man.

"Hi," she greeted, holding out her hand to shake his, those hands almost swamped by her long grey sleaves. 'Darcy' glanced at her hand with quiet concern. "You _can_ shake it, I've had my cooties vaccination," she informed him, as he took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "Okay…" she muttered, when he returned her hand.

"It's a pleasure, Miss Zimmerman," he said in a deep, educated English accent lilted with Scottish.

"It's just Ella," she replied, as he nodded and turned back to glance at Charlie, who was deep in conversation with Denny. She threw an awkward glance at Charlotte, who shrugged, indicating that she didn't know what was wrong with this Darcy character.

Ella threw off his strangeness and turned over to Jayne, chatting to her about plans for the wedding with interest, even though most of Ella's suggestions for elephants painted blue and giant cakes with feet were shot down.

"Ella, think about this logically, you're going to be the maid of honour, and would _you_ want to wear a toga instead of a dress?" Jayne questioned her, when Ella had suggested a Roman style wedding, complete with a gladiator session between a very large lion and Jayne's Mother.

"Err… how about an Alice and Wonderland theme?" Ella suggested with a quick grin, as Jayne rolled her eyes, and turned back to her husband-to-be. Ella sipped the drink she had gotten earlier and glanced around the room, Charlotte had left about twenty minutes ago because she finally _did_ want a good night's sleep, and Denny was just about to leave. "Abandoning me?" she asked him teasingly.

"Sure, Ella, I'm abandoning you," he replied sarcastically, with a hint of cheek in his voice. "I'm heading home, the folks are visiting tomorrow and I need all my energy," he informed her, kissing her forehead lightly and bidding everyone in the room goodbye.

"So, you're in that band, right?" Caroline questioned, when Denny had left. She looked over at Ella with her sharp hazel eyes, the lashes thick with mascara. She was indeed quite attractive, but looked a bit gaunt, and her oversized breasts looked just plain fake. She was also certain that her nose and hair colour weren't real, and those cheekbones looked like they had a little work done…

"Which one?" Ella asked, sitting back comfortably on the couch.

"Killing, right?" Caroline questioned, looked a bit confused. "Or maybe it was Kippers, I'm not sure… but you had that song '_Inane'_," she added.

"It's Kipling, and the song is 'Insane'," she replied. "Denny and Charlotte are also in it, they're Denzel and Carmen, he plays the drums and she plays the cello," she added.

"That's a remarkably small band," pointed out that Darcy fellow, talking for what looked like only the second time that evening. Ella was a bit startled – in fact she was under the impression he didn't speak much English.

"Well strictly speaking we have two bands, _The In Section_ is our backing band when we record and tour, they just don't want to become full members of Kipling, so that's why all our tours are Kipling and the In Section," she explained. "There's a bass player, a keyboardist, a violinist and two guitarists," she informed him.

"And what do you normally play live?" he asked her, as she frowned slightly.

"I normally play either the acoustic guitar or the piano, and a lot of the vocals have either Denny or Malcolm, the electric guitarist with me," she answered.

"Then why aren't The In Section as famous as Kipling? They seem to contribute just as much," he pointed out, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Because they're a separate band, they want to make it by themselves, but they also want to perform with us," she replied, with slight pointedness. Darcy ignored her and sipped his drink. She scowled – he was so rude!

"Jayne is hinting that she wants to talk to Ella, why don't you two have another wedding discussion in the kitchen?" suggested Charlie, as his wife slid off his lap. Ella followed her into the kitchen, happy to be away from Darcy.

"What's up?" Ella asked, as soon as they were in the very clean kitchen.

"I need to pee and I didn't want to say it aloud – wait till I come back before you go in," Jayne hissed, as Ella rolled her eyes at the back of her friend's retreating figure. Ella was considering walking back into the lounge room, but instead stood in the hall so she could see when Jayne got out of the bathroom. She leant against the wall and looked at an interesting but frighteningly abstract painting on the wall, frowning slightly.

"What did you think of Ella?" she heard Charlie question, as her ears picked up.

"A bit… odd," said Caroline haughtily. "She looks like a teenager, honestly," she added.

"What did you think, Darce?" Charlie questioned, ignoring his sister.

"What, of _Canterbury_?" he practically sneered. "I've never been interested in the band, they're too Emo and Indie for me, and she looks like a bit of an idiot," he added.

"She's actually really intelligent," pointed out Charlie. "She skipped two years of school and graduated when she was sixteen, _and_ she's just finished a degree, she did two years of it in Paris and then finished it by correspondence," he defended.

"She's a child, Charles," objected Darcy. "Nothing more than a silly, naive little child who expects that a pop group will give meaning to her life, she was barely tolerable, flippant and disrespectful, and not much to look at either," he snapped. "You have poor taste in friends," he added finally.

"I'm back, let's go in," came a whisper from behind, as Ella whipped around, her heart racing. It was only Jayne.

"Oh… right," she muttered, following her friend into the living room. How dare that man say such things about her? Had he even _heard_ any of her music? How could he be so – so – _rude_?

"Welcome back girls," Charlie greeted, as Jayne returned to her place on his lap, as Ella found another armchair further away from Darcy, but unfortunately opposite him. It was shiny black leather, and she felt no hesitation to pull her knees up beneath her chin and wrap her arms around them, her hot pink Gintama shoe laces dangling from her shoes. She did them up quickly, in a loose bow that could have been done better. It wasn't her fault – for most of her childhood she either didn't wear shoes because she hated them, or wore Velcro or clip on shoes, so tying laces wasn't second nature to her. "Are you going to the Brit awards tomorrow night?" Charlie asked Ella, as her head shot up. She was still steaming with anger from what Darcy had said, but swallowed it down.

"Yeah, we're performing there and 'Keep the Light On' is up for a 'Best Album of 2007' award," she explained.

"I wasn't aware that you're a British Citizen," pointed out Darcy, as Ella turned her head and frowned obstinately, her chin raised slightly.

"I have duo citizenship of France and the UK," she replied pointedly. "Everyone else in Kipling and The In Section is British – so we qualify," she added. "Got a problem with that?" she asked him, as his eyebrows raised slightly, and his mouth opened a little, an expression of shock, and if she didn't know better, he was slightly… impressed?

"Not at all," he said softly, closing his mouth and turning away from her.

"Play nice you two, why don't you discuss literature or music or something," suggested Charlie, as Darcy's mouth set in a firm line.

"Do you read?" he asked her, practically through gritted teeth.

"Nope. Never learnt," Ella replied, as a look of pure shock crossed his face.

"You're kidding, right?" he questioned, in complete horror.

"Well _duh, _it doesn't take a genius to notice that," she replied pointedly. "Of course I can read. I can read in French, English and Arabic," she said sharply. "Can _you_?" she asked him, as he shook his head.

"French, English, Japanese and Mandarin," he replied, as Ella scowled. Did he have to beat her at everything?

"I'm learning Japanese," she muttered under her breath, fidgeting awkwardly.

"The Chibi accessories and Gintama shoelaces told me as much," he replied, smirking as Ella scowled.

"Are you two still arguing? Talk about poetry – you can't go wrong there," Charlie ordered them, as Darcy gave another grimace.

"I think it was Shakespeare that said poetry is the food of love," Darcy threw out after a moment's pause.

"Lies," Ella retorted. "Poetry kills love, not encourages it," she objected.

"So every love poem in the universe was created to push the other away?" Darcy questioned sarcastically.

"If you're terribly in love then poetry has no ill effects, because nothing in the form of a limerick or a sonnet can destroy it," she began. "But if it's just a slight inclination, of a passing infatuation, then poetry would seem too eager, and frighten the other away," she explained. "Besides – Shakespeare said that music is the food of love, not poetry," she pointed out, as Darcy frowned, and turned away. It only took him a second to turn back, just as Ella was rejoicing her victory.

"Then what would _you_ suggest to encourage affection?" he questioned, as she shrugged.

"Depends, most people just want to spend time together – such things as poetry and music would be wasted on a silly, naive little child," she said pointedly, as Darcy paled only slightly, frowned, and stood up.

"I should go, I've got work to do tomorrow," he said, as Caroline instantly jumped up.

"Me too!" she cried, rushing over to Darcy. "We can get a cab together – my apartment is on the way to your house," she said, fluttering her eyelashes, as Darcy frowned, and looked like he was about to object.

"Err… aren't you staying here tonight?" Darcy reminded her, as her face fell.

"Oh yeah," she muttered, walking back over to the couch.

"I'm going to head off too," Ella said, standing up. "No, Jayne, don't get up, you're comfortable," she insisted. "See you guys tomorrow night," she added, following Darcy into the front hallway.

"I assume that you and Jayne weren't discussing wedding plans in the kitchen, then," Darcy muttered to her as he opened the closet, and grabbed his coat. "And I also assume that this is yours," he said, handing her the oversized Chibi cupcake purse she adored. "It's rude to eavesdrop, you know," he pointed out to her, as she shrugged.

"Who was eavesdropping?" she replied innocently, wandering out to the hallway, and pressing the elevator button.

The trip downstairs was passed in complete silence; they both hailed cabs and drove away in different directions. Ella sighed and relaxed a bit – he may have been handsome, but a _complete_ jerk. And calling her a child? She was twenty-two – how dare he? He looked to be a fair bit older than that, in his early thirties, she supposed. And he looked so familiar! Had they met before? She would have remembered if they had – but where had she seen his face before? She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was there, hinting in her mind. She gave another sigh, and pushed it from her brain. She was probably never going to see him again anyway.

**A/N: Yay! First chapter! Please review, it would mean heaps, tell me how I'm going :D**


	2. Step into the light

A/N: The song used here is called 'Step into the Light' by Darren Hayes, it's really cool so look it up

A/N: The song used here is called 'Step into the Light' by Darren Hayes, it's really cool so look it up. Please read and review! My poor ego needs an extra boost :D

The entire room was enveloped in darkness. Not a sound could be heard – and Ella's heart was racing, her hands sweating. She took a deep breath, and then…

The lights turned on, a mass of colours covering the stage. Denny started to drum the intro, and Ella waited for her count. One… two… three… four…

"_I have turned away from you, _

_And I am Godless_

_A wasteland of poison, _

_A hidden fortress_

_I have blackened out the stars, _

_And hidden frequencies_

_I have silenced all the waves, _

_And bitter secrecies_"

She was playing their latest song; 'Step into the light' on the piano, just a few simple bits and pieces of work here and there, mainly focusing on keeping her voice pitch perfect. The crowd was enjoying, not only the audience in the front who had paid a fortune for tickets to the Brit Awards, but also the musicians and people of the business behind them at their tables.

"_So step into your light_

_This dog doesn't bite no_

_I just wanna be your friend_

_You know I've never been in love before_

_I've never been in love before_"

She was enjoying herself. She kept on enjoying herself all through the song, and then even when the lights went out again and they were ushered offstage, the crowd cheering and screaming their names. She heard an 'I love you Canterbury' and smiled, crying out 'I love you too!' to the enthusiastic member of the audience, walking off happy and confident.

"That was pretty good," said Denny as they got backstage, people rushing around madly trying to get things done.

"Come on, we don't have much time," Ella muttered as they rushed through the hallways, searching for their dressing room. Ella pushed open the door and the three band members headed in, The In Section having their own dressing room next door.

"Ella! Where's my dress?" Charlotte hissed; searching through the dress rack as Denny changed his shirt, already wearing his dress trousers.

"In the blue dress bag – hand me the black one, please," she requested, as Charlotte tossed her a long black bag before pulling out her own blue bag. Ella slid out of her 'costume', black tights with one purple converse sneaker and one pink one, and an oversized white shirt that fell a few inches shy of her knees, a giant black silhouette of a rabbit in a top hat in the dead centre. Her hair was pulled back into a bun; she was wearing a white blonde wig over her long dark curls which looked striking with her big dark blue and grey eyes. She ripped off the wig and pulled the dress out, sliding it over her slender frame and zipping up the back, and kicking off her sneakers, slid on her heels. She ran a brush through her curls, an assistant taking over after she had helped Charlotte.

Ella glanced over her appearance, she looked at least decent, and more towards great, in her mind. She was wearing a little red strapless mini dress with a thick black sash around the waist. The sash tied at the back, with a low bow just above her bum that looked really cute, perfectly tied. Her shoes were black Jimmy Choo heels that made her legs look longer, and gave her a few inches of extra height. The assistant arranged her hair to fall down her spine in soft, natural curls, ending just above the bow, her side fringe that was normally pinned back falling forwards, giving her a look of intrigue and beauty. Her lips were painted red, and the assistant tried to wipe off the facial makeup, but Ella rejected her efforts. She liked the way her makeup was, faintly rouged cheeks with a tiny red heart painted on her cheek, big, dark and glittering eyes framed by her long coal coloured lashes and complimented by her well sculpted eyebrows.

"Thanks, but I'm done, you should help Denzel with his tie," she said to the dismayed assistant.

"Will that we all then, Miss Canterbury?" the assistant asked, as Ella pulled on her black satin gloves, that reached up to her elbow.

"Yeah, thanks a bunch," she smiled, before glancing over to Charlotte. Charlotte wasn't very attractive, and truth be told, she was a bit chubby, but she was sweet and funny, so that made up for it. She was wearing a black sheath dress with low black heels, her makeup discreet and tasteful. Her hair was pulled up into a funny sort of bun, complimenting her facial structure. It only took a minute before they were all ready, and headed back to their tables, where Jayne and Charlie were sitting, along with all the members of The In Section.

"If we win the award, will you guys come up with us?" Ella asked Malcolm, the sort of 'leader' of The In Section. He solemnly shook his head.

"It would ruin our image," he replied, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Malcolm, you're an odd one," she informed him, taking her seat and sipping some of the champagne. He smiled softly, as if it were a compliment, and went back to staring at his hands intently. He really _was_ an odd one.

"What awards are they doing now?" Charlotte asked, leaning over to Charlie.

"James Blunt is going to award the 'Best Male Musician of 2007'," Charlie replied, his eyes not moving from the stage. Ella looked up to the stage. She _adored_ James Blunt, and watched intently as he read out the nominees.

"Who's being nominated?" Jayne asked, tugging on Ella's hand.

"Err… I don't know! I didn't hear," Ella replied, practically drooling over James Blunt. She admitted that she was too distracted to take note.

"Hey! Darcy won!" cried out Charlie. Ella looked up to the stage, where she saw the unfortunately familiar shape of Wilhelm Darcy approach the stage.

"_Now_ I remember who he is!" cried Ella. "He's not just Darcy – he's _the_ Darcy!" she exclaimed, feeling much more foolish than ever. She couldn't believe she hadn't remembered!

Darcy was one of the biggest solo acts on the music scene, he played the guitar, the piano and sung, his songs often incredibly difficult to decipher but very beautiful, and complex, truly amazing, but not the type of song that you would hear on the radio. Normally he was a song writer, in fact he only released one album every few years, and if Ella could remember correctly, he only had three out after he had been playing the music scene for over ten years. His name was just Darcy, like Madonna or Cher or Fergie. He was incredibly talented, but no one knew a thing about him.

"Thank you," he muttered into the microphone, and made to move off the stage as he accepted the award. James Blunt pushed him back to the microphone and informed him that he wasn't going to get out of it 'that easily', and he stood there awkwardly for a moment. "Err… thank you for buying the CDs, or illegally downloading them in most cases, thanks for voting for me, and… yes," he finished, not meeting the eyes of anyone in the audience, and then walking off the stage.

"Please don't be sitting here, please don't be sitting here, _please_," whispered Ella under her breath, when she saw him approach. She wasn't very lucky in fate. Apparently he had been sitting at their table all night with Charlie and Jayne.

"Congratulations," she muttered to him as he walked past. He nodded and placed the trophy on the table, looking at it curiously, before he lost interest. Ella was in a horrid mood that lasted half an hour, she couldn't believe that she hadn't remembered who Darcy was.

"Ella! They're announcing 'Best Album'!" screeched Charlotte excitedly, as Ella smiled softly at her friend. Charlotte was so excitable, it wasn't like they hadn't won awards before, but to Charlotte every experience –

"Hang on, did we win?" Ella asked suddenly, when she awoke from her musings and glanced around, people were clapping and staring at them, and Charlotte was practically screaming with joy. She caught Darcy's eye as he gave her a nod, and soon found herself being dragged up by Denny and Charlotte.

"Did you write the speech?" Denny hissed to her.

"What speech? I thought Charlotte was doing it!" replied Ella under her breath.

"Of course I'm not! You've got to do it, Ella!" Charlotte whispered to her as they found themselves being pushed onto the stage, accepting the award blushingly from James Blunt, who turned out to be the presenter for that night. Her stomach tightened when he kissed her cheek, and before she knew it, she found herself in front of the microphone.

"I LOVE YOU CANTERBURY!" came a very loud cry that interrupted the silence from the crowd, as everyone laughed.

"I love you too, unknown stalker!" Ella replied, which ensured more laughter. "Hi then, I'm Canterbury, this is Carmen and Denzel, we're really happy to accept this award, and we'd like to thank our producer for 'Keep the Light On', because Tom did such a good job with our pitiful collection of songs," she began. "We'd also like to thank The In Section, they're amazing and for some reason incredibly shy today," she added, sending a cheeky grin over to their table. "Umm, thank you everyone for buying the album, for listening to it, and thank you for voting for us, we really like this pretty statue," she finished, smiling prettily before they left the stage.

Ella woke up the next day at around noon, with a splitting headache, but she wasn't in her room. She was asleep in someone's bed, still wearing her dress from last night, and not at all sure of how she got there. She sat up painfully and looked around; it was a very nice room. She recognised that the sheets she was lying on were silk, the doona that was sliding off the bed was made of at least 900 thread-count Egyptian cotton, the rug was a beautiful Persian masterpiece, the furniture was stunning mahogany and probably original Chippendale, and the bed was a massive four poster. Everything oozed beauty, money, and taste.

She slid out of the bed and picked up her shoes, which were on the floor, and stumbled out of the room, clutching her aching head as she went. She realised that she _wasn't_ in a hotel room, she wasn't even in an apartment, she was in a massive London townhouse that was decorated with the most expensive and modern of additions, with an exotic and refined spin on it. The house was a masterpiece.

She tread down the hallway lightly, looking around curiously and cautiously. Was this Denny's parent's house? She couldn't remember the evening, she knew that she went to the after party and that she drunk a bit, but most of the details were sketchy. She found herself going downstairs and over a shining marble floor to a kitchen that would move Jamie Oliver to tears of awe. She walked through the kitchen to some sort of breakfast room, and groaned loudly.

"If I slept with you, then _please_ murder me," she requested, when she saw who was sitting there. Wilhelm Darcy, in all his handsome and snobbish glory, looking perfectly fresh and decidedly _not _hung over, sipping coffee and reading the morning's paper.

"Do you regularly sleep with men you hardly know?" he asked her coolly, as she scowled.

"_Never_," she replied, crossing her arms. "What happened?" she asked, as he indicated that she should take a seat.

"Well, you'll be quite happy to know that we _didn't_ make love – I'm not that kind of man," he said with polite detachment.

"And I'm not that kind of girl," she insisted, sitting down.

"You, Jayne, and Charlie came over here for the after after-party," he began, as she frowned slightly.

"I think I remember that much," she muttered.

"Yes, and apparently you aren't supposed to drink scotch," he continued, as Ella winced.

"Makes me very sleepy," she muttered.

"In your own defence, you didn't know it was scotch," he pointed out. "You were a bit tired, and I suggested that instead of Jayne and Charlie driving you back to your place you spend the night here," he informed her.

"I didn't put you out of your bed, did I?" she asked, as he shook his head.

"You slept in one of the guest rooms," he replied, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"I love it how you say '_one of the guest rooms_'," she muttered sarcastically. She had money, of course, but it wouldn't be nearly as much as what he had. A very tiny fraction, maybe. In fact, a lot of the money she got from the two albums went straight to her father's hospital treatments and fixing up their old home, not to mention paying off all the debts he had hidden from her for years. "Was I horrid?" she asked, placing her head on the table and wishing she were dead.

"At about midnight you stopped speaking English, mostly you told Charlie about how he needed to make sure that the wedding was 'chibi' style," he replied. "In French, might I add, so he didn't get a word of it," he added. "Mrs Reynolds!" he called out, as a plump old woman bustled into the room; she had a sweet smile and looked very friendly.

"Hello dear, I hope you had a good night's sleep," she smiled to Ella.

"I believe that Miss Canterbury would like some breakfast," Darcy said to her.

"My name is _Ella_, Mister Wilhelm Darcy," she muttered to him, as he rolled his eyes.

"How about a nice hot cup of coffee and some Panadol, dear?" suggested Mrs Reynolds.

"Thank you very much, but I don't drink coffee," she replied. "Would it be horrid of me to ask for some tea?" she asked, as Mrs Reynolds smiled.

"Of course not, dear!" she replied sweetly. "Now young man, I hope you aren't just going to drink some coffee and disappear today – you're never home these days," Mrs Reynolds said, turning to Darcy.

"I'm going to the office today," he replied in his defence. "And I was going to eat breakfast," he added, as Mrs Reynolds raised one eyebrow, and placed her hands on her hips.

"Well good," she said, patting him on the head and walking back into the kitchen. Ella tried not to laugh – he had been treated like a four year old.

"She's been working for my family for thirty-five years, she's the _only_ person allowed to treat me like that," he snapped to Ella, when he realised she was holding back chuckles.

"Don't worry, I had a Nanny too," she said sympathetically, but it was laced with teasing and sarcasm.

"She isn't my Nanny – she's my housekeeper," he replied pointedly, as Ella nodded, hiding her grin and staring intently at her hands.

"So. Thirty-five years is a long time," stated Ella, glancing over at him as he nodded, still reading his newspaper. "How old were you when she started working for your family?" she asked curiously.

"I hadn't even been thought of," he replied, turning a page silently. "She started working for my parents when they first got married, about four years before I was born," he informed her, as she did the maths.

"Hmm. You're old," she stated, as he sent her an annoyed glare.

"Thirty is not old," he replied.

"Is too,"

"It is most certainly not – considering that the average lifespan of a man is almost eighty," he objected.

"Does it make you sad to think that you're going to die so soon?" she asked him patronisingly.

"I'm not going to die – because I'm not old," he replied.

"I think that you are," she teased, as he scowled into his paper.

"Now dear, don't bully him, he's awfully sensitive," said Mrs Reynolds, bustling into the room with a twinkling smile.

"I'm sorry if I made you turn emo, Darcy," she apologised politely, as Mrs Reynolds placed the tray on the table. He sent her a glance and rolled his eyes in response. "Thank you," she said to Mrs Reynolds, smiling sweetly.

"Not a problem, dear," replied Mrs Reynolds, patting Ella's shoulder kindly and heading back into the kitchen. Ella sipped her tea quietly and took a Panadol pill, feeling much better within minutes. Her head was no longer pounding and she didn't feel terribly sick, she was even able to nibble on one of the croissants that had been set out for her.

"You don't eat much," pointed out Darcy, when he saw her sit back with the tea in her hands.

"Not normally in the mornings – I get really hungry in the afternoon though," she explained. He leant over and grabbed one of the croissants from the basket on the tray that Mrs Reynolds had brought in and began munching on it, still reading the newspaper intently. "Err… where is this place in relation to my place?" she asked him curiously.

"Err… Jayne gave me the address last night… about ten minutes drive away," he replied, as Ella nodded, and continued sipping her drink.

"Listen, thanks for letting me crash here last night and everything, and for breakfast," she said, standing up. "Or rather lunch," she muttered, glancing at the clock above the mantle.

"I'll get my driver," he said, standing up.

"That's quite alright, I can get a taxi," she said, but he shook his head.

"You aren't getting a taxi," he replied, folding his newspaper and placing it on the table, and walking over to the doorway for the breakfast room. There was an intercom set up on the wall, he pushed one of the buttons and requested that his driver bring a car around the front for 'Miss Bennette'.

"Err… thanks," she replied, as her turned back to her.

"Your coat and bag are in the entertainment room," he informed her. "Come on, I'll show you," he said, as they began walking through halls and rooms, Ella marvelling at the beauty of the place. It could have been gaudy and over the top but somehow it wasn't, it was comfortable and handsome, it looked like a home, not a palace.

"You have a beautiful house," she praised.

"It's been the town residence of my family for many years," he replied.

"The town residence?" she questioned curiously, as he nodded.

"We have a few estates, mostly I stay in the Town house but I like to spend time at Pemberley, our country residence," he explained, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"My family has one house, in fact, most families do," she pointed out, as he shrugged, and led her to a very large parlour with a _huge_ stereo and home entertainment system, a pool table, lounges, a bar and a patio that led out to a hot tub. "This looks familiar," she muttered, looking around. She saw her coat and bag on the couch so picked them up, glancing around to see if she missed anything.

"I made sure that all your belongings are there," he informed her, as she nodded.

"Thank you," she replied.

"I had best take you outside, the car should be here," he said, leading her back out of the room. He didn't say anything until they were outside; a gorgeous silver Mercedes Benz awaiting her in the roundabout drive. She turned and looked back at the house, it was _huge_, and there was a large fountain in the front that came out from white stone steps. The garden looked lovely, even covered in light snow and frost. She could only gasp, she didn't know that there were big houses like his in London.

"It's really beautiful," she muttered, as he put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm fond of it," he said simply.

"Thanks again," she said, before bidding him goodbye and sliding into the car. She sighed. It had been a long night.

**A/N: So how did you like it? I hope you don't think it's weird that Ella slept over at Darcy place, I assure that they didn't do anything, Darcy was just being polite. I'm not sure how my characterisation is going yet, tell me what you think :D**


	3. It's not like I want you here anyway

A/N: Okay, so I only uploaded this story today, but I figured I would upload all the chapters I've written and just add them as I go

**A/N: Okay, so I only uploaded this story today, but I figured I would upload all the chapters I've written and just add them as I go. Collectively, I have about seven and a half Mega Bytes of word files and stories on my computer written in the Pride and Prejudice fanfiction style, so I may upload other stories as well :D Thanks for those who had reviewed so quickly, it means heaps. In this chapter we get to see a bit of Fran Gardiner, Ella's Aunt and tormenter. We also see some more of Caroline, and have a modernisation of the famous conversations that take place in P&P. I'll try to update as much as possible, but I'll be the first to admit that sometimes I get bored of stories and there is no hope going back. So if I do, I'll give the rights to the story to whomever wants them :S I have an ending for this story, but any ideas for the middle would be welcome, lolz**

**Disclaimer: Hmm. I'm a fifteen year old kid sitting in my bedroom scratching 'EVIE WAS HERE' on my desk, drinking tea and listening to Bon Iver. I don't think that I'm the most likely candidate for the 'who owns Pride and Prejudice' mystery.**

A few days later, Ella was sitting in her London home (she bought it with the money she got out of the first album that hadn't been split between other members of the band or given directly to her father for treatments of loan repayments), slightly bored. She was sitting on a beanbag with her acoustic guitar in hand, strumming out the bridge for a new song she was writing when her mobile rang, caller ID informing her that it was Jayne.

"Hey Ella!" was the joyful greeting that she got when she accepted the phone call. Ella rolled her eyes and fell back into the squishy beanbag. Jayne had been very excitable and happy lately, and could talk Ella's ear off quite easily.

"Morning Jayne," she greeted in response, picking up some papers on the floor and flicking through them. It was mostly junk, nothing too interesting. She glanced back at the table; Charlotte had come over last night to celebrate the end of the tour and left some of her gossip rags on the floor.

"Are you doing anything today?" Jayne asked her curiously, as Ella flicked through the magazine. She normally hated these things, but was a bit too bored to care.

"Not that I know of," Ella replied, as she opened up to a sixteen page spread of the Brit Awards. "Any plans?" she asked, as she opened up the middle page – and saw herself. She nearly grinned, the photos were really good and she looked very nice in the dress, there were also pictures from the performance. The comments made were stating that Kipling made a great performance, took out an award, looked spectacular, that kind of thing.

"Well… I was wondering if you wanted to spend the day with Caroline and I," she said quickly, as Ella's happy mood vanished.

"I don't like Caroline," she said bluntly.

"Oh Ella, she's not that bad! You know she's a widower? Her husband died last year," Jayne said, trying to evoke some sympathy.

"Jayne, he was ninety-five! They had been married for five months; they got engaged right after he revealed that he had terminal cancer! She's a gold-digger!" Ella cried in response.

"Come on Ella, we want to start looking at dresses so we know the scheme we want for the wedding," Jayne pleaded, as Ella groaned.

"Alright, but don't play the pleading card anymore!" Ella cried irritably. "Where will I meet you?" she asked.

"Charlie gave me a car and driver for the day; we'll stop by your flat in half an hour to pick you up, alright?" Jayne replied.

"Okay, I'll be ready," she said, before they gave their goodbyes, and hung up the phone. Ella lay back in the beanbag and groaned with irritation, before sitting up. She glanced over the gossip rag again, and then to the next page – a huge picture of her in her little red dress, apparently it was causing some sort of fashion swarm around it, but she didn't care that much, and turned the page again.

There was Darcy. There was a two page spread of him, with all sorts of comments ranging from 'sex in Armani' and 'this years hottest bachelor'. Ella nearly laughed; with Darcy's manners he was probably _always_ going to be a bachelor.

"You know, you really should be wearing heels," said Caroline a few hours later, as they perused the gleaming boutique of Louis Vuitton, Ella glancing down at her flat, shiny powder pink shoes with an oversized plastic button on the side. They were adorable and matched the rest of her outfit, white stockings ending just above her knee with a cute pink bow, a 1920s style cashmere trench coat that fanned out at the hemline, ending just above the stockings, a cute matching hat and scarf, and even a matching purse!

"I wear heels sometimes," replied Ella, glaring over at Caroline's looming 173cm tall form. "And these shoes go with the rest of the outfit! I bought it as a whole," she explained, fiddling with the oversized plastic buttons going up the middle of the coat, exactly the same ones as on the shoes.

"Heels would make you look taller, and that outfit makes you look fifteen," she replied, turning back to the displays of clothing. Ella scowled – she knew that the beret-style hat did make her look a bit childish, but she adored the outfit on a whole. "And you need to wear lipstick. A woman should never be without lipstick," she advised.

"I'm wearing lip-gloss," defended Ella pointedly, as Caroline rolled her sharp hazel eyes.

"Lip-gloss hardly counts," she replied, once again turning away from Ella. Ella stuck her tongue out at her retreating figure, and headed back over to Jayne, who was buying a handbag and a skirt.

"She's bullying me," said Ella sulkily, wrapping her arms around Jane's figure miserably.

"Since when did you ever let anyone bully you?" Jayne questioned teasingly, as Ella frowned, looking more like a pout than anything else.

"Can we go home now? We've been shopping for _hours_," she begged.

"Why are you complaining? You bought lots of stuff!" Jayne commented. Ella had indeed, she had bought a pair of man-style lace up shoes in black and white _with_ a heel, another coat similar to the one she wore in powder blue, three new books and a large box of chocolates that looked too pretty to eat. Jayne and Caroline almost turned sick from just looking at them, Jayne (for some unknown reason) hated chocolate, and Caroline didn't want to eat anything fattening, which left the splendidly wrapped box all to herself.

"They aren't all chocolates!" Ella had objected earlier. Some of its Turkish delight, and Coconut Ice, there's all _sorts_ of things in here," she explained, but to no avail.

But finally they did leave the store, and slid into the car, heading back to Charlie's apartment. Caroline had spent a small fortune on clothing; Jayne had spent less but still a considerable amount more than Ella, who was very content with her purchases. Jayne tried to convince her to give the chocolates away as a present, not to eat them all herself, but Ella could not be convinced to. She knew that Charlie liked chocolate, so she would share it with him when Jayne wasn't looking.

When they arrived at the house Ella brought her things in with her, informing Jayne that she was only taking a cab back anyway so she would have to get them out of Charlie's car if she left them.

"Have fun girls?" Charlie asked when they entered the apartment. Evidently he was not alone, he and Darcy were sitting on the ground, their legs crossed, playing Xbox 360. Ella nearly laughed – it was such a site.

"We'll go and put everything away before we show you," Jayne explained hurriedly. She wanted to put on her new clothes immediately, as did Jayne. Ella laughed at their retreating figures, and walked into the room, Charlie and Darcy pausing the game for a break.

"Ooh, what's in the box? A hat?" Charlie asked curiously, when he saw her large blue cardboard box, complete with a bow on the top.

"Gourmet chocolate," Ella replied, rushing over to take a seat on the floor with them and opening the box. "They tried to make me get rid of it, but I spent a small fortune on it so I didn't want to," she explained, throwing her purse on the couch.

"And is Ella sharing?" Charlie asked in a begging tone. "Here, let me help you with that, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he said immediately, taking off her coat for her, revealing a white singlet blouse and waist high skirt in the same shade as the coat. "Comfortable? Would you like something to drink?" he asked, clearly sucking up.

"Relax, I'm sharing," Ella replied, as Charlie eagerly, pulled the box towards him, Ella laughing. "Don't eat it _all_, Charlie, save some for Darcy and I!" she cried, when he shoved three chocolates in his mouth at once.

"You disgust me," Darcy said to his friend, his mouth bulging with expensive connoisseur chocolate, not even able to close his lips.

"Bive ush a kish, Willsh," Charlie got out, opening his arms wide as he chewed, and attempted to throw himself at his friend.

"Get off me!" cried Darcy in shock, trying to desperately pull himself away as Ella watched with interest, quietly eating chocolates as the two struggled. "Help!" Darcy cried, as Ella laughed. "Lady present! Lady present!" Darcy yelled out, as Charlie relented, and swallowed down his mouthful of chocolate.

"You didn't have to stop on my account, I'm curious as to the process of gay baby-making," she teased, as Darcy rolled his eyes, and took a chocolate.

That was how Jayne and Caroline found them twenty-minutes later, eating their way through a large box of chocolates on the floor, occasionally wrestling each other.

"Honestly, you're so childish!" Caroline scolded.

"Sorry Mum, didn't mean to, do I have to sit in the naughty corner now?" Ella asked Caroline patronisingly. Caroline huffed and crossed her arms, throwing her chin forwards.

"I _certainly_ hope that I'm not your mother – that would be a very sad and sorry day," she spat out.

"Hmm… I can imagine," Ella mused. "Aw, Charlie – stop eating them all!" she cried, pulling the box back and stuffing one into her mouth, before she slid the box over to Darcy. Caroline and Jayne were having some sort of fashion show, showing off their new purchases whilst Charlie watched with feigned interest and Ella and Darcy slid the box of chocolates back and forwards between themselves.

About a half hour later the girls had gone through the last of their purchases, and Charlie, Darcy and Ella had gone through the last of their chocolates. Jayne was sitting on Charlie's lap, whilst Darcy tapped away at his laptop, Caroline hovering around him in her new Chanel dress, and Ella was sitting on the couch, reading.

"You type very fast, Will," praised Caroline, repeatedly walking past him with her chest pushed outwards.

"Actually I type very slowly," he replied.

"Who are you emailing?" she asked him curiously, fluttering her long eyelashes.

"Gina," he replied shortly.

"Oh good – could you tell her I said hello, and that I can't wait to see her again?" she requested.

"I will convey your greetings as best I can," Darcy replied, his teeth gritted together with irritation.

"You must write _very_ nice emails, they're always so long! You must write well if you can write long emails so easily," Caroline deduced, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Will doesn't write well – he takes forever to make himself sound intelligent, and it doesn't even work," said Charlie in his usual playful manner.

"Don't even comment Charlie, I don't want to get started on how terribly _you_ write emails," said Caroline roughly. "What twenty-seven year old man still uses abbreviated, one letter words?" she asked. "Its always 'u', and 'cya' with him," she explained crossly.

"I don't have time to type properly, I forget everything when I type too slow!" he argued.

"But at least you're being modest about it," pointed out Ella. "You would hardly receive any blame from such humility," she added.

"Humility almost always hides a secret agenda, most of the time its people fishing for compliments," Darcy threw in suddenly, still tapping away at his laptop.

"So what do you think I was doing, trying to get reassurance, of did I want to show off?" asked Charlie curiously, leaning forwards in interest.

"It was closer to boasting – you know you're proud of your annoying writing style," said Darcy idly. "It might be irritating, but it's quick, and people like to be quick about things these days," he added.

"But I don't think I was boasting, maybe I was subconsciously showing off to my lovely fiancée," he offered, kissing Jayne lightly on her nose.

"You probably weren't conscious that you were showing off, but you do tend to boast about how easy it is for me or Jayne to manipulate you," he pointed out, as Charlie shrugged.

"I'm really just a big pushover," he confessed. "Remember the discussion we had at Darcy's the other night? I basically admitted that I would probably leave the country at the drop of a hat, had I even the slightest inclination," he said.

"You aren't showing enough of your flaws – if someone suggested you stay a month at their house when you wanted to leave in five minutes, you would certainly comply," replied Darcy.

"You aren't really achieving much by saying that, you're basically stating that Charlie didn't do himself enough credit, or censure, it seems," Ella said, leaping back into the conversation, placing down her book as Darcy looked over at her. "And if you seem to think that complaining about your faults is just a hidden way of boasting, you've certainly shown him off more than he could himself," she added.

"Well I'm impressed that you managed to turn Darcy's insult into a compliment," threw in Charlie. "But I don't think that's how he wanted it to turn out, in fact, he would be happiest if I defied what you both said and just did what I felt like," said Charlie, shrugging.

"Well then, do you think he would be more impressed by your stubbornness to do what you want, or just your rebellion against doing what someone else asked?" she questioned Charlie.

"Too much thinking," said Charlie simply, turning back to Jayne. "Ask him," he directed, waving his arm in Darcy's general direction.

"How can you expect me to give the reason behind an opinion that is neither mine, nor yours?" asked Darcy, his expression puzzled, as he looked up at Ella. "But if we _were_ to pretend I wanted to say that, then you would have to consider the point of view of the person who wanted him to do something, it was merely a suggestion, not something for argument's sake," he explained.

"So you think it's a flaw to be that loyal to a person that you would do what they wished, or spineless to yield to someone's request so quickly?" she asked him, her eyes flashing.

"But if you were to agree, without really wanting whatever it is that this hypothetical friend is asking, then it isn't even yielding, its simply complying to a friend's wishes, for the sake of the friend," he countered. "_That _is more of a flaw," he concluded.

"You aren't exactly allowing the unwritten laws of being a good friend to apply here, if you liked the friend enough you would of course do as they suggest, but I get the feeling this is more broad a topic than someone asking Charlie to pick up something from the store," she shrugged. "Unless you have some sort of subconscious issue with such a suggestion of someone being a good friend, but I think it would be advisable to simply wait until an occurrence of this situation takes place before we make comment, for all we know it could have a completely different outcome," shrugged Ella.

"If we're to argue this, then shouldn't we to arrange how important we feel the request would be to the friend? Or is this just a passing suggestion of someone who want's a packet of chips from the store?" he asked, his expression serious.

"You might as well ask for Charlie to rate how much he likes the friend from a scale of one to ten," Ella countered. "What if this friend was forcing him to do something? Does Charlie's supposed 'spinelessness' have any influence if the friend is _making_ him do something he doesn't want to do?" she asked.

"For all _you_ know the friend could force Charlie to do something for his own good," Darcy replied.

"Even if it's against his wishes?" countered Ella, as Darcy frowned.

"If you make someone do something that they don't want to do for their own good, then it's still a good deed, but submitting to the requests of someone when the ramifications are severe if they do not comply is not loyalty, it's saving your own skin," he stated.

"I never suggested that," Ella replied, affronted.

"I was just seeing how you liked words being put in your mouth," Darcy countered.

"I'm much more likely to spit them out," she said, her twilight eyes flashing with a fire from the argument. They stared each other down for a moment, before Ella gave a small smirk and a defiant tilt of the head, turning back to Charlie.

"I've never seen anyone get Darcy so fired up before," commented Charlie. "He's _very_ easy to start when he's bored, though, you should probably try and catch him when he has nothing to do to see how far you two can get," he suggested. "I bet you'll argue _all_ our heads off," he added cheekily.

"I assume that's a sign for us to be quiet then," Darcy replied in accordance to his friend's speech, as he turned back to his laptop. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Ella read through the last few pages of the book, he had to admit that she was a fast reader. After he had finished sending his emails he sat back in the chair, and noticed that Ella looked a bit bored. He pointed out that there was a perfectly good piano for her to play with in the next room, but she ignored him.

He repeated his words and asked if she had heard him, and then she looked up, a smile twitching at her lips.

"Oh – I heard you the first time, but I didn't know how to reply," she informed him. "Because I know you wanted me to say that I would love to 'amuse' myself on the piano, but then that would leave me open to an attack upon how silly that may appear, or how distracting for those who are working, and I simply figured that when you are being threatened by any reply, it is best to stay silent," she explained. "So there, I said it, now hate me if you wish," she dared teasingly.

"Oh – but I don't wish," he replied simply, which came as a bit of a shock to her. She hadn't expected that reply.

She simply laughed lightly, shook her head, and arched a grin, before standing, and picking another book from the small selection in the sitting room. Darcy was impressed; she was frightfully clever, and bordering on the edge of acute audacity, but her boldness was composed of arching mischievousness, playfulness and sweetness, a particularly disarming combination. She hadn't offended Darcy, which was her intent, because it was very difficult for her to offend – because no one could be offended, simply enchanted, bewitched, or entranced, as Darcy was beginning to become.

He was beginning to think he was growing fond of her. And if it weren't for the fact that she was almost nine years younger than him, that she had absolutely no respectable family to speak of and actually _had_ a profession he would be seeing himself in danger.

Caroline had stayed awfully silent of the past few minutes of the conversation, mainly because she didn't understand a word of what Darcy and Ella were throwing at each other. But she was sick of being so unnoticed, Darcy was opening up word files and statistics to do some real-people work, so she had to act fast.

"You know Ella, you really shouldn't sit down so much, it'll make your legs quite useless," she said. "Come on then, walk around with me for a bit, it's very refreshing," she suggested. Ella looked a bit put out, before she unwillingly stood, and allowed Caroline to grasp her arm, leading her to the large line of windows in the apartment. She glanced back at Darcy, and realised that she had achieved her desired attention. "There now, isn't that better?" she questioned with great deals of false sincerity.

"Absolutely tops," Ella replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it was almost as tangible as Caroline's fake emotion, running in thick dollops over her normally quite musical voice.

"You know, Will, you should probably join us, the view from this window is lovely, and you may want to stretch your legs," Caroline threw in, glancing back over at her would-be second husband. Darcy turned his gaze to Ella, she was staring out the window, the sunlight basking her heart-shaped face in a soft, delicate glow, highlighting her pretty features and reflecting off her blue-grey eyes.

"I have a perfectly lovely view from here, Caroline," Darcy replied, as Caroline giggled and raised one perfectly manicured hand to her lips.

"How shocking, Wilhelm!" she declared. "Ella, we should punish him," she said, as Ella glanced over.

"Why? That would just please him," she replied almost lazily, more occupied with the view than the conversation. She tore herself away from Caroline and strolled back to her seat, taking her book and then returning to sit in the window seat where she could feel the sunlight on her skin. "If you really wanted to annoy him you could laugh at him, you know him better than I do, what are his flaws?" she asked, her voice lilted with curiosity, but in actuality she couldn't care less.

"Oh no – you can't tease the great Fitzwilliam Darcy," concluded Caroline severely, as Ella gave a carefree laugh.

"Are you too proud then?" she asked. "Or simply too vain?" she questioned. "You had best pick a good one of the two, because both are very severe flaws," she informed him gravely, her fingers absently running along the length of the curtain which hung by her side.

"Vanity is a flaw, yes," replied Darcy. "But pride isn't, when you're proud of something it's not a crime to show it," he said, as Ella arched a playful, lazy smile from her window seat.

"Well Darcy, you've now proved to me that you have no flaws whatsoever, and I should simply give up – because you're superior," she countered. "Probably for the best as well, because I believe we've already established that discussing your flaws is a subtle way of bragging," she added.

"I never said I was perfect, I have plenty of flaws," Darcy replied. "I mean… I have quite a temper, and I don't easily forgive," he offered, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Darn it! You've picked very good flaws, I can't laugh at those ones," she said dramatically, but the twinkle in her eyes revealed she was just teasing.

"Tell me Will, how is Gina going with her dancing?" Caroline threw in, trying to return to conversation to herself.

"She's going well, but she doesn't have much time for it, what with Christian and Alexandria," he replied, still tapping away at his computer.

"I always said that she was very talented, and _so_ skilled," she commented.

"Jeez Carol – it seems like _every _girl you know is 'so talented and skilled'," Charlie commented, looking up from his wordless conversation with Jayne to address his sister. "I mean, exaggerate much?"

"Not nearly as much as _you're_ exaggerating, I don't call _every_ girl I know talented," Caroline replied.

"I think that the word 'talented' is used too much these days," Darcy commented, not looking up from his computer. "The modern definition has become completely misconstrued, it seems that anyone who can find the middle C on a piano and can cook two minute noodles is seen as 'talented'," he practically drawled.

"I could imagine that your idea of a talented woman has more requirements then that, then," Ella commented, as Darcy looked up and over to her.

"It is," he replied simply.

"Of course it is!" cried Caroline. "You can't call a woman talented or accomplished unless she can play an instrument or sing, can speak two languages, can paint or draw, can design good outfits and plan parties, and can cook," she listed.

"I suppose you could include those things into the idea, but to be _truly_ accomplished by any reasonable standards a woman has to improve her mind with literature," Darcy said, after a moment's hesitation. "I can only truthfully say that I know about half a dozen women who fit into these requirements," he added.

"Let me guess, I bet one of them is Donna Reed," Ella said sharply. "Those are _such_ pre 1950s attitudes, who says a woman needs to know how to cook to become accomplished or talented? What authority do you have to say that a woman has to be a bloody Princess to become skilled?" she asked him. Her response seemed to have startled Darcy, or at least awoken some sort of curiosity, for he turned in his chair to face her.

"Are you suggesting that women can't be all of these things?" asked Darcy. "Or are you being a sarcastic feminist?" he asked sharply.

"I will admit, I _have_ seen a woman with all these qualities," replied Ella pointedly. "She was nine inches tall, and came with a camper van and ken doll," she informed him.

"I personally know people who fit into all of those requirements," Darcy responded.

"Good for you! I'm trying to say that you shouldn't expect women to be like that, it's just sexist," she snapped. Darcy gave a small smirk; he enjoyed seeing her fired up.

"And I suppose you've never expected anything that a man should be," he commented sarcastically.

"I don't expect him to be able to chop firewood and fix my car, if that's what you're implying – I try not to expect things of people, that way when you see the good side of them you're in for a pleasant surprise," she responded.

"Or a disappointment,"

"Well I'm not as cynical as you are, so I suppose I'm safe," she countered. "Jayne, I think I'm going to head home – it's getting late," she said suddenly, standing up.

"My car is here, if you want me to drop you home," Darcy offered. Ella was about to reject his offer, but a look from Jayne said clearly that it would just be petty, so she relented.

"Sure," she muttered, grabbing her coat. Darcy stood up and closed his laptop, narrowly avoiding Caroline before he led her out of the sitting room. Ella pulled her coat on as Darcy pulled open the front door and pressed the button for the elevator, glancing over her appearance. He almost laughed; it was slightly comical, but still pretty. Before he had almost seen her as a young child with an awful temper, but it was clear to him that she was anything but, she was an adult, if not a slightly immature one. But he had underestimated her, and he wouldn't do it again. "Any particular reason why you're staring at me?" she asked pointedly, when they walked into the elevator.

"Is your hair naturally that like that?" Darcy asked, saying the first thing that could come to mind. Ella absent-mindedly drew a hand to her hair and pulled one of the long spiralling curls.

"Do you mean the colour, or the curls?" she asked.

"Both," he replied, his attention now on her hair.

"Yeah, I've only ever dyed my hair once, when I was fifteen, but it's grown out now, and it's always been curly," she replied.

"What colour did you dye it?" he asked her curiously.

"White blonde with pink highlights," she replied, wincing slightly. "It was a funny look," she added.

"I can imagine," he commented thoughtfully, trying to picture her with pink and white hair.

"It was shorter than yours as well, in a sort of Pixie look," she added, as he nodded. That made a _bit_ more sense…

"Why did you do it?" he asked her as the elevator doors opened and they walked out into the lobby. "Was it for attention?" he questioned, as she shrugged.

"I think it was rebellion – against Jayne's Mother mostly," she replied. "When I was fourteen I went to live with Jayne's family, she's my second cousin by marriage or something like that, and I stayed there until I was sixteen, in London, that is," she explained. "I hated my Aunt so I did everything I could to make her life hard, and she did the same to me," she shrugged.

"May I ask why you lived with her for three years?" Darcy requested.

"Long story, and I don't feel like telling it," she replied pointedly.

"Quite alright with me," was Darcy's slightly cool response as he led her down the road, pulling some keys out of his jacket pocket. They stopped a very nice car; it had the body and build of a 1958 Chevrolette Corvette roadster convertible, in cream with silver lining, the seats done in red leather.

"This is your _car_?" Ella questioned incredulously, looking at the thing in appreciation. It was more of a masterpiece than a car.

"One of them," Darcy replied, clicking the remote control entry as the headlights flashed. "I like this one though – the engine has been completely redone so that it's eco-friendly and all that," he explained, as he took one of her three bags and put it in the back seat, Ella doing the same with her other two. She didn't both opening the door, the roof was down and so she just slid into the front seat with ease. Darcy almost chuckled at that, his sister Gina did the same thing with that car.

He put the keys in the ignition and turned on the car, as soon as he did the new high-tech stereo burst into life, Ella laughed and Darcy blushed when it started playing Kipling's latest album, 'Keep the Light on'. Darcy turned the CD player off and pulled out onto the street, Ella still laughing.

"I'm sorry – I get like that whenever I hear someone play anything from Kipling," she informed him, as he rolled his eyes. "I thought you didn't like that kind of music," she added thoughtfully.

"I hadn't listened to it much, Charlie gave me some of your CDs and I decided to give it a shot," he replied, a bit affronted.

"You don't have to apologise!" she exclaimed. "You can listen to whatever music you want; I just thought you were too above 'Emo Indie' to care," she commented.

"Alternative," he stated suddenly, after a brief pause.

"What?" she questioned curiously.

"You would fit into the alternative music style, not 'Emo Indie', because it's a mixture of emo, electronica, Indie, acoustic, lyrical and rock, there isn't really a category for you," he explained.

"And where do you fit your own music into?" she asked him, as he looked thoughtful.

"I… don't like to put it in a category," he said finally, after thinking over the question. "Maybe miscellaneous," he added thoughtfully. "Err – I'm curious," he said, turning his stereo back on and flicking through the tracks on the CD, he finally arrived at the one he wanted and played it. It was called 'I thought you were God' and one of the many that Ella had written for 'Moth from the Flame' that never got on, but she had recorded it just in time for the second album.

"You want to know about the bike," she stated, as he bit his lip softly.

"About the song in general, but the bike just makes me curious, is it symbology?" he questioned, as Ella sighed, and restarted the song.

"_Storeman, your eyes all watery white,_

'_Another long, long night?' and you say,_

'_Be careful riding that boy's bike in the dark,'_

'_Don't worry, I'm not going far,' _

_I was very, very young and terribly in love  
and not yet knowing that love alone may not be enough  
to undo all the silly things I thought.  
I thought you were God._

_The night sky is peeling back her sheets.  
The linen is lavender and underneath it I ride your bike,  
The bike bar's cutting into my crotch,  
I stand up and power-pedal on,  
_

_I was very, very young and terribly in love,  
not yet knowing that love alone may not be enough  
to counter all the stupid things I thought,  
I thought you were God.  
I believed in you.  
_

_We still talk; we still talk a lot, _

_Since the alarming discovery that you were never God_

_And we still love,  
but the laughter's more sincere,  
'cause it's speckled with your tears,  
_

_You were so young and terribly in love,  
not yet knowing that love alone may not be enough  
to undo all the secret things I thought,_

I thought you were God…"

She turned the stereo off when the song ended, and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"It's about falling in love when you're just a kid, and realising that it doesn't matter how you feel, the rest of the world thinks you're just a silly child," she explained. "Riding the boy's bike is being in love, the 'storeman' is the rest of the world telling m – her to be careful," she continued. "I – _she_ felt like he was God, like he was wonderful and divine until she realised that he wasn't," she finished, shrugging.

"That's what I thought, but I didn't get it at first, why the bike?" he asked curiously.

"Err… I don't know anything about cars," she admitted. "In fact – I don't even know how to drive one," she confessed, as Darcy nearly swerved into the sidewalk.

"You can't _drive_?" he asked incredulously, as Ella jutted her chin out pointedly, a habit when she was being offended.

"It's not my fault," she sniffed. "I can ride a motorbike, and cars are big dangerous things that destroy the environment, I don't _need_ to drive one," she replied pointedly.

"You really need to get your licence," Darcy commented.

"I have my own means of transportation, thank you very much," she said pointedly.

"What, friends with cars?" he questioned, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Who said I considered you a friend?" she questioned. "I mean a taxi, or a train, or my moped," she explained.

"You should still be able to drive," Darcy pointed out, as Ella rolled her eyes again.

"Why, because if I can't then I'm not an accomplished woman?" she offered.

"_No_, but you may need to know, what if there was an emergency?" he asked, as she shrugged.

"Then I would call an ambulance or a police officer, I don't usually do high-speed chases," she retorted. "Err… that's my house down there," she pointed out to him, as he turned into a remarkably ordinary street lined with two story terrace houses and small gardens out the front. She was pointing to a house cement-rendered with crushed white stone, a small patch of grass out the front that was mainly covered by a large willow tree, its branches draping over the front of the house and spilling leaves everywhere. It was a very ordinary house, which was strange, as she wasn't an ordinary person. "Thanks for driving me back. Do you want some coffee, or tea or anything?" she asked him, secretly hoping he would decline.

"That would be great," he replied, as she opened the car door and slipped out, hiding her frown. Why was he so strange? One moment he was a rude and arrogant prick, the next he was treating her with detached politeness, an improvement upon his usual character but still irritable. He helped get her bags from the back seat of the car, and followed her towards the front door, she unlocked it and pushed it open, flicking on a light switch as she went; it was getting dark outside.

Darcy placed down the boxes where she instructed and looked around curiously. Although it was two story, there didn't seem to be a second floor – he looked up to see large mahogany beams and architraves on the roof, before he continued along that path and found a loft, it was like a platform raised halfway up the walls, held up with thick mahogany pillars and a winding staircase. He noted there were no walls to the room, and he could easily see her bed and an inbuilt wardrobe.

He continued to look around the place. The bottom floor was very open, there were only a few doors, some of which he supposed led to closets and pantries, but one was open and he could glimpse into her bathroom. It was a nice house; he walked through and up three steps to get onto the ground layer, looking around curiously. She had a flat screen television mounted on the wall, and a big white sofa in a large L shape that dominated that space, there was an empty mug on the coffee table in front of it and one of the cushions looked remarkably like a teddy bear.

"Tea or coffee?" she asked, heading over to the kitchen. The kitchen was another open space, it had everything a kitchen needed and an island in the middle that seemed to double as a dining table. Her dining table was currently being used as a work desk.

"Tea, thank you," he replied, as she grabbed the kettle. He walked past the large couch and continued looking, most of the walls were lined with big bookshelves, there were books everywhere, even piled up on the ground. In the area under her bedroom/loft he found the music section, it had a very big window that let him see her surprisingly sized backyard, most of it was green grass and trees. He ran a hand along the side of her piano, it was a Julius Friedreich Baby Grand, it differed from the traditional Friedreichs however, as it was in white, and not rosewood. There were guitars mounted on the wall, he looked at each one curiously as Ella made tea. She seemed to have a love of Gibsons, he saw a perfectly restored Les Paul, a J-45 next to it, and then a slightly beaten up SJ-200 leaning against a large green beanbag on the floor. The Les Paul and the J-45 were both semi-acoustic plug ins, but she had two electrics, a vintage Fender Jaguar and a Fender Stratocaster.

He continued to look around the place with interest. If the walls were covered in bookshelves, they had large windows or paintings and photographs on them; it was stylish but didn't fall into any style he could think of.

"Both of my parents were into photography," she informed him when she caught him looking at some of the photos on the walls. He glanced over at her and accepted the cup of tea she offered, before looking back at the wall. It had many photographs, all were different sizes and different frames, but everything fit together regardless.

"Are these of you?" he asked, as she nodded.

"Most of them, I think all of these were ones that my Mum took," she said thoughtfully, she too looking at the pictures with curiosity, despite the fact that she had seen them a million times before.

Darcy looked at the little girl in the pictures with fascination. Most of them were in black and white, but some were in colour. Admittedly, they were very good, and captured the energy of the young child well.

"I like this one best," he declared suddenly, discovering a picture off to the left side, it wasn't as big as some of the others, but the angle and focus was perfect. It was of Ella, she couldn't have been older than three years old. She was standing, looking to someone out of the picture innocently, wearing a pretty white dress with no shoes; jam splattered over her perfectly smooth ivory skin. She had a baby violin held in one hand, it was dangling on the floor, about to fall from her hand, and she was sucking on the bow, her extraordinarily blue eyes twinkling brightly, chocolate coloured curls spilling out everywhere.

"Err… I hate it," Ella replied, blushing slightly. "I was three or something, and one of my Dad's friends gave it to me for a joke…" she muttered.

"So do you play the violin?" he asked, as she looked thoughtful.

"Err… I suppose," she answered, wincing slightly. "But I sound horrid, really," she explained.

"You have some pretty nice instruments in here," he pointed out, looking over at her wall of guitars. "I'm surprised at your choice of piano, why not a Steinway?" he asked her curiously.

"Friedreich are all handmade, the sound is much mellower," she replied. "Besides, I've never been one to run with the crowd," she added.

"Which of course is why you have a Fender Stratocaster," he said sarcastically. Ella rolled her eyes at him purposely, and wandered over to the couch, Darcy following her, sipping his tea.

He was… fascinated with her. It wasn't an attraction, it just couldn't be; his interest was based on a purely platonic psychological fascination. She wasn't like anyone he had ever met, and that was why she intrigued him. Her vibrancy, the way she moved, he had seen her a few times of the past few days when she was at Charlie's and he was too, he noticed things. If she could, she was practically jogging from room to room, she moved in an almost childlike way, and yet all of her movements were graceful, and somehow she had applied that to her music.

"So. Got another album coming?" she asked Darcy curiously, as he nodded.

"Actually, I haven't written it yet, but I want to record it in Fall, perhaps," he explained. "And yourself?" he asked her curiously.

"Yeah, we want to start writing our next album soon, but the record company wants us to do some Featuring in other artist's songs," she informed him. "I couldn't exactly tell them to bugger off, but I wanted to," she added.

Suddenly, a shrill ringing filled the room. It took Darcy a moment to realise that it was a phone, because he was currently fascinated by the light shining off her curls, and the way she smelt of wild strawberries and lilies.

"Are you going to answer it?" he asked her, as she leaned over him slightly to look at the handset, it was on the coffee table before him.

"No," she replied, moving back to her original place.

"Why not?"

"Because it's my Aunt – Jayne's mother – she's really quite horrid and I don't want to talk to her," she replied.

"That's a bit harsh, what if it was something important?" he asked over the ringing, as Ella shook her head.

"If there _was_ something important, she would have stopped trying to ring my home phone and rung my mobile," she explained. "And besides, I _really_ don't like her," she said pointedly.

The phone stopped ringing, and went to the message bank.

"Prepare yourself," Ella whispered.

"_Ella-Rosé Dylan Freedom Bennette! You have to ring me back IMMEDIATELY! Why didn't you tell me you won an award? You never consider your poor Aunt, Jayne always thinks of me! Jayne is getting married to CHARLES BINGLEY! Do you know what that means? He is a VERY wealthy man! But YOU have to spend your time running around being a celebrity, when are you going to settle down and have children? You probably aren't even seeing someone, you're twenty-two girl! You have to start being serious about life! How do you ever expect to be married and have babies if you can't even look after yourself? Oh – I'm sick of you already – you don't HAVE to ring me anymore – my poor nerves couldn't take the surprise_!" was the screech that came out of the receiver. When it was all over, Darcy was completely silent, and Ella gave a long sigh.

"Can you see why I didn't pick up the phone?" she said, breaking the silence, before giving a quiet laugh. "God – how that woman tormented me for three years of my life," she laughed. "Don't worry – she's delusional," she assured him, noticing his silence.

"I'm sure she is," he muttered. "I'm sorry, I have to go," he said, standing up.

"That's cool," Ella replied, taking his empty mug from his hands and then wandering towards the kitchen.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again," he said, as she put the mugs down and headed to the door.

"Likewise," she said, but she didn't mean it. She opened the door for him and shook his hand to say goodbye, as he started to walk down the path.

"Err – are you going to the engagement party on Saturday night?" Darcy called over to her, as Ella leant against the doorway.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she replied.

"I – err, I suppose I will see you there then," he said finally, before nodding, and then getting into his car. Ella closed the car door and walked back into her apartment, breathing a sigh of relief. That man really did bug her.


	4. Hello, hello

A/N: Introducing some more stock characters of pride and Prejudice

**A/N: Introducing some more stock characters of pride and Prejudice! Lye is really Lydia, and May is really Mary, but I changed their names because I'm changing pretty much all of them anyway :D**

**Disclaimer: HA!**

"He's really hot, you know," Charlotte pointed out to Ella the next day as they wandered through China Town in London, one of Ella's favourite haunts.

"I know he's _hot_, but he acts like a prick all the time," she replied, picking up a DVD and peering at the back with curiosity.

"Come of it, are you only saying that because he insulted you on the first night you met," she stated pointedly, as Ella frowned.

"That's isn't true! He's rude and arrogant and pig-headed, I can't stand the man," she snapped.

"Ella – he's _gorgeous_! He made Adonis look like friggen David Spade!" Charlotte stressed, trying to be serious. "He's also one of the richest men in the country, certainly the richest male musician; it couldn't hurt to be nice to him," she rationalised.

"Char, I'm just not interested in him! I mean, _yes_, he is quite attractive, but whenever I talk to him I just feel like punching his pretty face," she muttered. "Come on, let's get some lunch," she sighed, taking the DVD to the counter and paying for it.

"Maybe you should be a bit more interested in him, I think he likes you," Charlotte said, as Ella gave a small snort of laughter.

"As if," she retorted, as if amused by the whole idea.

"I'm serious! He let you stay at his house and got his driver to take you home, Jayne told me about the argument you two had, it sounded like some sort of libido-based debate, _and_ he drove you home when it's out of his way, _and_ he had tea at your house," she explained, as Ella took the bag for the DVD and they wandered out of the store.

"That doesn't mean he likes me, Char," Ella pointed out. "It just means that he's been raised to be a gentleman, even though he isn't," she countered.

"Whatever Elle, are you sure that you don't want to admit that he fancies you because of one Jacques Petards?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow. Ella turned around quickly, and sent her friend a look of pure fire and venom.

"Charlotte Lucas – I believe we already established that you are not to bring that man up in conversation again," she hissed. Charlotte's armour held for a moment, before she caved in.

"I'm sorry Elle, I just don't want you to miss out on being in love again," she muttered. Ella sighed and ran a hand over her head, her hair up in a lazy bun. "Come on; let's get lunch – but not in China town! I don't care if they say its duck – I swear to God that they cook dragon in here," she whispered conspiratorially, as Ella laughed.

"Alright then, we'll go back into town," she replied, leading her friend across the road.

About half an hour later they were sitting in a nice café in the centre of London, both wearing sunglasses to protect them from any media that might spring out – they always had to be cautious.

"I'm serious Ella, you _really _need to get his number," Charlotte said to her friend, who rolled her eyes and put down her bottle of red orange flavoured mineral water.

"As if," she retorted for the second time that day. She was very fond of the feel of that café, she had been coming there ever since she first came to London, and was quite a regular. She was sitting with her slender jean-clad legs folded underneath her, her long grey cardigan practically enveloping her. It was a chilly day in London, being February, and people were only just settling into the changing weather of 2008.

"Have you _seen_ him bum?" Charlotte asked, practically slamming her hand on the table.

"Yeah – I swear to God the aliens forgot to remove their ten foot anal probe," she replied, Charlotte started laughing. Surprisingly, someone else also started chuckling at her response, as the two glanced to a table diagonal from them.

There was a man sitting there, sipping a cup of coffee, laughing at Ella's comment. He was attractive, tall and a bit slight, with sandy blonde hair and a beard and moustache, stubble over his cheeks, his green eyes twinkling merrily. He was quite attractive, he had a nice look about his face, Ella guessed him to be in his late twenties.

"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny," he said in an English accent lilted with American when he saw them looking over at him. "Umm… yeah, I'm not a freak," he informed them awkwardly. Ella gave him a small smile, to which he practically beamed.

"That's alright – would you like to join us?" she asked, as his smile grew more. He had a very enchanting smile, and his teeth were very white.

"That would be great! Do you mind?" he asked Charlotte, but she only shook her head. She could see that he was very attractive as well. He thanked them and stood up, bringing his coffee with him, grabbing a chair and sitting down next to Ella. "I'm Gee," he greeted, holding out his hand to shake Ella's. "And I think I know who you two are," he said conspiratorially, giving Ella a wink as he shook her hand.

"Ah… who do you think we are?" Ella asked him, as he shook hands with Charlotte.

"You're Carmen Luc, and you're Canterbury Zimmerman," he stated proudly. "I've got both of your albums," he added.

"Well, you're correct, but you can call me Charlotte and her Ella," Charlotte said, as he glanced back over at Ella.

"Ella… I like it," he said, smiling softly. "Well, _Ella_ and _Charlotte_, I'm Gee Wickham, and I'm very pleased to meet you," he said smilingly. "Sorry I interrupted you two, but I heard you talking about Darcy and I couldn't resist listening a bit more," he shrugged.

"Do you not like his music?" Ella asked curiously, before sipping her drink.

"Err… no, I just have a bit of a history with the guy, we don't get along so well," he muttered, as if it were an awkward thing for him to discuss. Ella and Charlotte knew immediately not to press the subject, but were still intrigued as to the extent of their 'history'.

Ella liked Gee Wickham. He was funny and interested in what they had to say, slightly more interested in Ella than Charlotte, however. There was something in his eyes that disturbed her slightly, but they ended up sitting in that café for an hour ordering drinks and cakes and muffins, just chatting away.

"So what are you doing in London?" Gee asked them curiously.

"We just finished our tour," Charlotte explained. "Most of the band members live here anyway, and Ella is staying for a little while before she goes to spend some time in France with her dad before we do the next album," she added, as Gee nodded with interest and curiosity.

"What part of France do you live in?" he asked Ella curiously.

"Near Marseille," she answered with a soft smile.

"Oh, so you're on the Mediterranean!" he cried. "What are you doing so far from home?" he asked her curiously, as she shrugged.

"I like London," she said thoughtfully. "I like it a lot, even though I miss France already, but it just interests me," she explained.

"You'll go home soon, France has an appeal that you can't capture – it's all terribly bohemian and chic at the same time, London is nothing compared to Paris, Marseille, Lyon, Bordeaux," he replied, as Ella smiled.

"I suppose it doesn't, but I still like it here…" she said, looking around at the busy street. "I'm comfortable," she said confidently, sitting back in her chair. "I'm comfortable in London."

"So Gee, where do you come from?" Charlotte asked curiously, leaning her chin on her hand and gazing over at Gee's beautiful green eyes.

"London, actually, but I moved to Derbyshire when I was little, and I've spent a lot of time in America," he replied.

"Oh, I loved America! We went there about three months ago, remember Elle?" Charlotte said, glancing over to her friend.

"I stayed in California mostly, I'm a photographer you see, and there was a pretty big industry for it there," he explained.

"That explains the accent then," Ella commented, as Gee laughed.

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious," he replied, his green eyes twinkling merrily. Ella reluctantly found herself blushing – she couldn't fix her opinion of the man, but regardless she liked his attention.

Eventually both parties admitted that they needed to be going, Ella because she was going to her Aunt's house for dinner that night and Gee because he was working across town and couldn't be late. He entered his phone number in Ella's Blackberry, requesting that she call him 'anytime', causing her to blush again. He bid them both goodbye with a handshake and a wink in Ella's direction, before hailing a cab and whizzing away into the crowded London streets.

"He was _GORGEOUS_!" cried Charlotte when they got into their own cab.

"I don't really like blondes," Ella replied, as Charlotte whacked her arm.

"Ella, he was _really_ hot," she stressed to her friend, who laughed.

"I know he was," she responded. "I'm not blind, and I _will_ call him, maybe just for coffee or something," she muttered, as Charlotte sighed.

"You're so lucky," she mumbled, as Ella laughed.

"No I'm not! Don't inflate my ego," she ordered her friend playfully, who laughed in response.

Ella was dropped off at her place before Charlotte, the late afternoon starting to settle into the city. She threw her handbag down on the couch and the bag with her new DVD, heading upstairs to her bedroom/loft where she changed for dinner. She had about half an hour before Jayne came around to pick her up, which was plenty of time. She kept her dark blue jeans on and changed to a nice warm brown V-neck sweater and some brown boots, pulling her hair into a ponytail and freshening up her makeup. She worked on the bridge of a song they had written on tour until Jayne arrived, perfectly on time as always.

"Are you ready?" she asked, when Ella answered the front door.

"Of course I am," replied Ella. "Both mentally and physically, I've been chanting," she replied playfully. "_I will not kill my Aunt, I will not kill my Aunt, I will not kill my Aunt_," she demonstrated, closing her eyes and holding her arms out beside her with her middle finger touching her thumb.

"Ella, you're absolutely ridiculous," laughed Jayne. "Come on then, you know what Mum is like if we're late to dinner," she said meaningfully.

"Ah yes, unpleasant memories," muttered Ella, grabbing her handbag. "I'm ready, let's get this over with," she said decidedly, locking the front door after following Jayne out of it.

The trip to Jayne's mother's home was filled with discussion on the wedding, it seemed that between Ella and Jayne there was little else to talk about. Jayne had decided on a colour scheme of red and white, the bridesmaids would be in red and white dresses, the flowers would be red and white roses, the ribbons, the bows, the tablecloths and the invitations would be in either red or white, and at the end of the evening there would be red and white fireworks.

"Have you picked a date yet?" Ella asked curiously, sitting back comfortably in the passenger seat of Jayne's yellow mini cooper.

"July the fifth," she replied. "We've booked the church and everything, it still seems to far away!" she exclaimed.

"A six month engagement isn't that long," commented Ella comfortingly. "I'm curious, will you serve red wine or white wine?" she asked teasingly.

They arrived at Fran Gardiner's home at about six, which left time for before dinner drinks. Ella remembered the house quite well; it was on the outskirts of London, a pretty nice house and fairy ostentatious. The gardens were absolutely pristine, even the front drive had been scrubbed within an inch of its life. Jayne parked her car and they walked up the drive, ringing the bell that started to chime Green sleaves. Ella rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall, looking around curiously. She hadn't had dinner with her Aunt for a few months, but there looked to be no changes, at least not to the front drive.

"Hey Hilary," Ella greeted when the part time maid (she came in every second day) Hilary opened the door to greet them. She looked tired and stressed, but Mrs Gardiner had that effect on people.

"Your mother is expecting you, she's in the front room," Hilary replied, opening the door for the two. Ella and Jayne walked through hesitatingly, they knew that they must have guests, normally Hilary greeted them with a hug or a word of comfort, unless they were in front of company. They found themselves standing in the front sitting room, Mrs Gardiner sitting in the main armchair, Lye and May all sitting next to each other on a couch, dressed nicely, and an unfamiliar face seated in the chair closest to Fran Gardiner.

"Girls! There you are!" cried Ella's Aunt Fran when they walked in. Ella glanced over at the unfamiliar man. He had jumped up immediately, to reveal that he was only a little taller than Ella herself, and very lanky, his limbs slightly too long for his torso. His face was a bit pink, and he had short brown hair and eyes that didn't suit his face at all. He was wearing a pair of pinstripe trousers and a dark blue Oxford shirt with an even darker blue tie, and white loafers with seemingly odd socks. He was altogether a very strange looking man. "This is Billy Collins, his father is an old friend of the family, Billy, this is my daughter Jayne – she's just gotten engaged to _Charles Bingley_, and my niece Ella, but you might know her as Canterbury from that band Kipling," she introduced. Billy's beady little eyes squared in on Ella, starting at her feet and running up, pausing at her breasts, before widening slightly when he saw her face.

"It's an absolute pleasure," he said, taking one long step towards her, and holding out his hand eagerly. His voice had a nasally quality to it, one that disturbed Ella to no limits. His hand was a bit sweaty and he held onto hers too tightly before he shook it vigorously, when he finally released it she wiped it on the leg of her pants.

"Err… likewise," she replied awkwardly.

"I've heard _all_ about you, and I have both of your albums," he said enthusiastically, as Ella smiled politely.

"That's great," she replied.

"Here, come sit next to me!" he said, leading her to the couch he was sitting on. Ella reluctantly took a seat next to him, wrinkling her nose slightly, he wore too much cologne.

"I like the hair, May," she said to her cousin, who was the same age as herself. May was normally very quiet, when she did speak all her words came out jumbled and she said things she didn't mean, so she didn't like to open her mouth often. May was studying to become a doctor, and was still living at home. She was a bit plain looking, but her new haircut suited her. She had cut her hair as short as a boys, and combed it forwards and spiked it a bit, as well as dying it black, so it complimented her facial structure and made her look more mysterious. It also drew attention away from her eyes, she had eyes that were almost black, and so made it look like her pupils had exploded. It just looked a bit odd, and took some getting used to.

"Mum hates it lots I guess, but I don't but she says I look like a lesbian but I don't," she said quickly, before turning pink, and closing her mouth. "Thanks," she muttered, after she got a disapproving glare form her mother.

"I think it looks cool, like Agyness Deyn, or that gay chick from that band Tatu," said Lye. Lye was nineteen years old and had just finished her last year of school; she had to repeat because she played hooky so much the first time round that she didn't qualify. She intended on taking a gap year before applying to a University or College. She looked a bit like Jayne, not quite as attractive and with hazel eyes, but she ruined any looks she could have had with too much makeup and not enough clothing.

"Don't listen to them May, as soon as it's long enough you're getting extensions," snapped Mrs Gardiner. "Ella, don't ignore Billy, _talk_ to him," she continued, glaring at her niece. "And Hilary, get some drinks," she ordered to the maid, who nodded, and slipped from the room.

"Err… so Billy, what do you do?" Ella asked, turning to the man, who was still looking at her cleavage.

"I'm a Personal Assistant to Lady Catherine Bourg, I'm sure you've heard of her," he said, as Ella slowly shook her head.

"Sorry, I haven't," she replied, as Billy looked aghast.

"She's _very_ famous, she owns Rosings Mobiles, the company her late husband started," he explained. "It makes mobile phones, they're sold _everywhere_," he said, as Ella nodded.

"Yeah, my friend Charlotte has a Rosings phone," she replied. "And what are you doing in London?" she asked curiously.

"Mrs Bourg sent me here as a representative of Rosings Mobiles, and I couldn't resist the urge to see the lovely Gardiner family," he explained, his eyes sweeping around the room; then pausing on Ella. "And you?" he asked.

"I just finished a world tour and I'm staying in London for a month or two," she replied.

"I saw the Brit Awards on TV last week, congratulations on your win," he said, as Ella gave another polite smile.

"Thank you," she said, before looking around desperately. She was sick of the man already.

For the next ten minutes Ella was treated to an in-depth lecture about the inner workings of Rosings Mobiles, and a detailed analysis of Lady Catherine Bourg's finer qualities. Ella wondered if he was in love with the woman, before it was revealed that she was in her seventies. Not even a glass of red wine could drown out his droning as he tried to convince her to dispose of her Blackberry and purchase a new Rosings phone. He even pulled out his own phone and started comparing it to Ella's, taking hers and trying to point out the advantages of a Rosings Phone.

Half an hour after she had arrived, dinner was announced, and they all shuffled into the dining room.

"So Ella, are you seeing anyone?" Fran asked when they were seated, and dinner was being served. She noted that her Aunt was going all out that evening, with the finest dinnerware, and normally Hilary sat down and had dinner with them, but that night she was serving.

"Nope," Ella replied, as the vegetable lasagne was spooned onto her plate, and sipping her wine.

"And when are you recording the next album?" she asked, as Ella looked thoughtful.

"I'm thinking June, probably in LA," she replied.

"And have you been meeting up with any celebrities recently?" she questioned eagerly, as Ella shrugged.

"I haven't had the chance to hang out with anyone, what with the tour and everything," she replied.

"That's not true!" Lye cried suddenly, jumping up from her chair.

"Where _is_ that girl going?" Fran asked rhetorically, shaking her head as Lye ran off and up the stairs. Ella wasn't surprised that Fran didn't try to chastise her daughter, she let Lye get away with anything she tried to do. She came back a minute later, a gossip rag held in her hand. She took her seat and started leafing through the pages with haste to find what she was looking for.

"These are pictures from the Brit Awards!" she declared suddenly; when she found the page, throwing the magazine open on the table for everyone to see. There were a few pictures of Ella walking through the crowds with Darcy; it was after the after party, when Darcy invited her, Jayne and Charlie back to his place for a few drinks. Charlotte and Denny were still at the after party with _The in Section_, they had lost track of each other when the party was crashed by reporters. "See? You met _DARCY_, isn't that amazing?" she cried.

"You mean _the_ Darcy?" questioned Mrs Gardiner, as Ella nodded.

"Yeah, Jayne and Charlie came too, but you can't see them in the picture," she explained, reaching for the magazine. "_'Darcy and Canterbury – is he robbing the cradle or she robbing the grave_?'" she read out, and started laughing. She closed the magazine and handed it back to Lye. "That's ridiculous, anyone who could actually meet Darcy would realise that he's a complete tool," she said.

"But he's _gorgeous_," Lye objected, accepting her magazine back.

"When I first met him he basically called me an idiotic, disrespectful and ugly child," she replied, as Lye wrinkled her nose.

"Jeez, what a man-bitch!" she cried, flipping her very straight blonde hair over her shoulder and turning back to her dinner.

"You know, Darcy is Lady Catherine Bourg's nephew," Billy said randomly.

"Really?" frowned Ella. _No wonder_, she thought. _This Bourg lady sounds like a cow, Darcy isn't very far from that mark_.

"Oh yes, she's most proud of him, and they're very close, in fact, he's engaged to her foster daughter Anne," he continued.

"Good for him," Ella said, bored of talking to Billy already.

"Ella looked very nice at the Brit Awards, didn't she Billy," Fran said, as Ella looked up to her Aunt, and narrowed her eyes. She knew exactly what her Aunt was thinking, and she didn't like it.

"You looked very lovely, as a matter of fact," Billy practically squealed. Ella inwardly sighed, and sent a desperate glance to Jayne. But Jayne couldn't help her, no one could help her anymore.

By the end of the evening, Ella was very close to chopping off her own arm with a plastic spoon just so she could go to the hospital and avoid talking to Billy. She couldn't be more thankful then, when Jayne declared that it was time to go.

"Really? Already? But I haven't even had the opportunity to tell you about Rosings Park, my employers fine estate!" Billy practically wailed when Ella agreed with Jayne, and stood up.

"What a shame then, maybe another time," she muttered. "Come on Jayne, let's go so we can avoid the traffic," she said quickly, as Jayne gave a quiet laugh at her sister's desperation to leave.

"You have to call me Ella, stop ignoring your poor Aunt," hissed Mrs Gardiner, as Ella waved her off and followed Jayne to the front door. Never before had she so quickly gotten her coat, left the house and slid into the car than on that evening.

"Ahh…" groaned Ella, sinking down in the seat as Jayne got in the car and turned the key, the mini cooper bursting into life. "That was just painful!" she cried miserably.

"Elle, she's your Aunt, you _have_ to put up with her," Jayne pointed out, as Ella sighed.

"Bleugh," she said finally, and turned on the radio. She groaned when she heard the first song that came on, it was by Darcy. "Can't I get a little bit of piece and quiet?" she begged as they started down the road. She sighed and left the music as it was, even though she didn't like Darcy the man, his music was just heavenly.

**A/N: AND WE MEET WICKHAM! Yes, his name is Gee, and I didn't describe him well, but I'm thinking scruffy and blonde, like he's just crawled off a beach. Please read and review, it means I update faster! Whoop! I'm trying to make the chapters all fairly long, about four thousand words, but I type very fast so that means a new chappie every few days :D**


	5. MY Ella?

A/N: Evie here

**A/N: Evie here! I'm glad that some people like my story, in this chapter you get to see a little bit more of Mr Collins and of Wickham, and finally, a few pages in Darcy's POV! Have fun, please review, it makes me feel all warm and fluffy :D**

"Ella Bennette speaking," Ella said, whipping out her Blackberry as she picked up a carton of milk and put it in her shopping trolley.

"Ella! Its Billy here," was the reply that greeted her when she answered. Ella cringed and considered turning her phone off – but it was too late anyway.

"How did you get my number?" she asked, pushing the trolley down further and getting a bottle of vanilla malt milk.

"I got it from your phone the other night," Billy answered in his nasally tones. Ella bristled at that – what a cheat! How dare he do such a thing? "Are you doing anything right now?" he asked her curiously.

"Yeah, I'm shopping, Lye and May are going to spend a week at my place, Aunt Fran thinks that they need some time out," she explained.

"Oh well, are you busy tonight?" he asked.

"Yes…" she replied slowly. "Lye and May arrive tonight, I'm cooking them dinner," she explained.

"Can't they get takeout?" Billy asked, not hiding the disappointment from his voice.

"I don't want them eating takeout, they need healthy food, you know, vegetables and all of that," she replied, picking up some mango flavoured yogurts that her local organic grocer made so well.

"What about tomorrow night?" Billy asked curiously, obviously not giving up.

"Charlotte and I are going out tomorrow night, we're meeting up with someone," she explained.

"Really? Who is it? Do I know them?" Billy asked quickly.

"I doubt you know Gee," she replied pointedly.

"What about the next night?" he suggested.

"That'll be Friday night, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," replied Billy.

"Nup, I'm having an interview on some chat show Friday with Charlotte and Denzel," she answered. "And then I'm going to a party Saturday night," she added.

"Maybe I should call you later then," muttered Billy.

"Sounds great, got to go!" Ella replied quickly, before ending the phone call, and releasing a long sigh of relief. The nerve of that man! He made her absolutely furious, but she pushed it down and put her ipod headphones in her ears, and finished her shopping.

She got back to her place at around five in the afternoon, and unloaded her shopping. She had to clean her house a bit, because she didn't want Lye complaining to Aunt Fran about how messy her cousin was, but she didn't mind cleaning so much when she had her stereo blaring out TATU from all around her. She eventually managed to sort out sleeping arrangements, she was startled to find that each cushion on her long white couch could fold out to make a very comfortable and well sized bed, in total she could have seven beds, but only needed two. She got some extra bedding out and plenty of pillows, and attached the curtain to the rods under the platform where her room was, so that it would create an area for changing and privacy in the music area.

She gave a positive smile when she had finished, somehow manual work left her feeling happy and fulfilled, and she was confident that Lye and May would be happy with their arrangements for the next week.

It hadn't been Ella's idea to accommodate the two girls for a week, but Mrs Gardiner was loosing hope in her daughters marrying young, and wanted them to be thrown into the society of rich and famous. Ella wanted to point out that she wasn't really friends with many rich and famous people, she had her friends from Kipling and from The In Section and then her normal friends, and a few well known faces she had met along the way, but none that would really be interested in a recluse like May or an air-headed flirt like Lye. But she thought that maybe she could talk some sense into the two girls, and help them realise their own unimportance in life.

Neither Ella nor the Gardiners came from particularly profitable backgrounds. Most of the money in the Gardiners came from Michael Gardiner, Fran's husband, who was away for nine months every year in Germany, so they hardly ever saw him. He was a translator for a German member of parliament, and the distance pleased him – he didn't like Fran at all. He sent money home for the girls to live off, but it was known that the Gardiner name was not linked with money, and the Bennette family was almost as bad. When Kipling was first coming into popularity several newspapers had found an angle at documenting Canterbury's rise to fame as a transition from a French student with a nobody-family and hardly any money to a young woman with wealth and power behind her. Ella hated it, but most people who hadn't seen her interviews or spoken to her viewed her as European trash.

The girls arrived at about seven, when Ella was cooking dinner.

"Wow, I haven't seen your house yet!" Lye cried when Ella answered the door, shoving her oversized Country Road bag into her arms and walking through, staring around in wonder. "It's totally bohemian, you're so cool! And I love this whole lofty-room thing, man, this is awesome!" she exclaimed.

"I'm glad you think so," replied Ella, frowning slightly as she put the heavy bag on the floor near the couch. May was getting distracted by the books, ignoring what Lye said. "Go for it, you can borrow whatever ones you want, just try and put them back in the same sections they were in," she said to May, who then smiled brightly. She put her bag down next to her sister's and headed to the nearest shelf.

"So where do we sleep?" Lye asked curiously, after she had seen the whole place.

"I folded out the couch, it's really comfy actually, and I've made beds and everything," Ella replied, gesturing over to the living area. Lye immediately picked the bed closest to the TV and grabbed the remote, turning it on and sitting back. Ella rolled her eyes, she was doing what she probably would have done at home. May took the other bed, sitting down with a heavy copy of _The March of Folly_, putting on her reading glasses and immediately digging in. Ella almost laughed. It was looking like a fun seven days before her.

She finished up dinner and they ate it on the breakfast bench, the dining table swamped by her laptop, books and various papers.

"This is actually really good, I didn't know you could make Spring Rolls by hand," Lye commented, dipping one of her rolls into a sauce Ella made up herself.

"How do you think the ones that you get from Chinese takeout were made?" Ella replied, as Lye looked thoughtful.

"Ah well, these taste better," she finally admitted.

"Yeah – they taste nicer than the other ones," May threw in, measuring out her words slowly to ensure she didn't say anything silly.

"So Ella, are you taking us to any awesome parties this week?" Lye asked, as Ella looked thoughtful.

"Well there's Jayne's engagement party, and then the Record Company is having some sort of shindig to celebrate the end of our tour on Tuesday, so I may bring you along to that," she answered.

"Really? That'll be _awesome_!" Lye cried, as Ella rolled her eyes. She was now perfectly clear as to why Lye was so eager to stay with her. Her Blackberry started to play the chorus of _Meds_ by Placebo, indicating that she had a call – so she picked up her phone and wandered into the kitchen.

"Hey Elle, it's Gee," greeting she received.

"Oh, hey Gee," she replied, instantly smiling. She and Gee had been in contact several times since the first day they met, she had gone for coffee with him on one occasion, and was going to have dinner and see a movie with him and Charlotte tomorrow night. She found that he was a funny kind of guy, and was very kind to her.

"I just got back from work, I was photographing the Thames," he informed her.

"Wow, that sounds like fun," Ella replied, as she heard Gee laugh.

"Yeah, pretty cool, I had to send the pictures right over to my boss though as soon as I got home, man, I took fifty and there were only eighteen that were good enough for him, and he wanted them all named with watermarks as well," he complained.

"Poor you," said Ella in a teasing voice. "Jeez, they must have been really awful pictures," she added.

"Shutup you, when you open up _Touring London_ magazine next month there's going to be a whole twenty page spread of my photos, and you won't be chuckling when you see my masterpieces – one of which is titled '_Ella'_, by the way," he replied, as Ella stopped laughing.

"Now why would you call it that?" she asked, a hint of amusement still in her voice.

"I dunno, it was something about the moonlight on the water, the colours reminded me of your eyes, the dark blue and the grey and the little bits of violet," he explained, as Ella found herself nearing a blush.

"How sweet, do I have to name a song 'Gee' now?" she asked, not able to contain the smirk from her voice, as Gee chuckled.

"It would be appreciated," he replied, with a joking lilt to his voice. "What are you doing?" he asked her curiously.

"My cousins are staying with me for a week, so I made them dinner, we're eating it now," she replied.

"You mean I'm keeping you? Jeez, I'm sorry, I just called to say hello," he said.

"Don't worry, they don't need my assistance to find out which one is the knife and which one is the fork, they're big girls now," she replied, as Gee laughed.

"Nah, I'm distracting you from your family time," he replied. "I just wanted to say that I'm going to pick you up tomorrow, I got my car back from the dealers and I thought we could hang out a bit before the movie and dinner," he said.

"I'll give you my address," Ella said, as Gee grabbed a pen. She recited it to him, before they agreed on a time, and bid each other goodbye. Ella put down her phone and walked back to the bench, Lye giving her a curious expression.

"Who was that?" she asked her inquisitively.

"Oh, that's just a friend of mine, his name is Gee, he's a photographer for a tourist magazine," she explained.

"Is he hot?" Lye questioned.

"Err… he's attractive," replied Ella awkwardly. "But it's not like that," she insisted, as Lye rolled her eyes.

"Nah man, you like him," she replied, grabbing another roll. "How old is he?" she asked.

"He's twenty-nine," Ella answered, a bit startled by Lye's bluntness. She gave a low whistle of appreciation.

"Man, that's seven years…" she commented. "And how old is that Darcy dude?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Err… he's turning thirty-one this year," she answered. "Caroline told me _all_ about it," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Wow, _nine_ years!" she exclaimed.

"So? My mother was six and a half years younger than my father, age differences don't matter," Ella replied.

"Yeah, but… that was _your_ mother… I mean, I might be a bit dull up there, but I remember Aunt Sophia…" Lye trailed off, as Ella's eyes flashed with anger.

"Lye, I don't know what you're trying to say, but you had better shut it," she snapped.

"Oh yeah, sorry Elle," Lye replied, brushing her cousin's anger off. Ella scowled and took her plate into the sink. "I shower in the morning, and I like having hot water, so one of you might want to shower tonight," she said, as Lye slipped off her stool.

"I think I will, there's nothing good on telly tonight," she replied, putting her plate in the sink and going over to her bag.

"She doesn't mean to – she's like me, she says stupid things sometimes," May said quietly, taking her plate to the sink as Ella sighed.

"I know, but she just needs to learn that sometimes she can't just say and do everything she wants," Ella replied, before taking a deep breath, and standing up straight, giving May a comforting smile. "At least you'll be able to read in peace for an hour though, if I remember how much time she spends in the bathroom," she commented, as May laughed quietly.

"Yeah, at least I can do that," she agreed, before going back to her book on the couch. Ella cleaned the plates and put them back in the cupboards, before she sat down at her laptop, mostly surfing and checking her emails, searching her name just for entertainment. She googled the names of everyone in the band, before she found her fingers unwillingly typing out 'DARCY'.

She was startled at the amount of hits there were. It came up with a few images as well, one of which showed Darcy sitting on a park bench next to a toddler. Did he have children, she thought? It didn't look at all like him; perhaps it was his nephew that he had mentioned. Ella ignored the thought, and clicked on his website. It seemed to be practicing minimalism, it had little to no information on Darcy himself, just lyrics, some videos, and ways to purchase the albums. Ella already had all of his albums in her CD collection, and she wasn't interested in videos, so she closed the window and turned off her laptop. That was enough of Darcy for one day, she felt.

The next morning was painful on Ella's senses. They had stayed up all night watching movies and chatting, and she spent the night sleeping on one of her beanbags. She groaned as she rolled off it at around nine AM, and let her eyes flutter open. She checked her watch and groaned, she was supposed to be meeting with some people from the Record Company at ten and it took at least a half hour to get there. She stumbled to her feet and headed upstairs, picking out a change of clothes for the day.

There was thankfully plenty of hot water left, and the steaming jets on her back awoke her and gave her new energy. After her shower she changed into her clothes, faded blue waist high jeans and a baggy white shirt that tucked into the pants with a comical red belt that matched her red converse sneakers. She found a grey cardigan and quickly put on some makeup, letting her chocolate brown curls fall about her shoulders loosely.

"Morning," she greeted when she felt the bathroom, May already sitting down with a cup of orange juice and some toast, Lye making herself a large cup of coffee and drowning it with sugar.

"Bleugh," was Lye's response, May replied with a polite 'good morning' before she continued reading her book. Ella got out the orange juice and grabbed a large blueberry muffin from a container on the bench, she had bought a packet mix the day before and made them up in her toaster oven.

"Where are you going?" May asked curiously, when she noted Ella's appearance.

"Denny, Charlotte and I have a meeting with a few people from the record company, we have to negotiate the terms for our next album and decide whether or not we'll be doing another world tour for it," she explained, pouring out some orange juice and biting into her muffin at the same time.

"Sounds boring," Lye commented, sipping her coffee gratefully.

"Yeah, but we've got to do it," Ella replied.

"How are you getting there?" May questioned.

"I'm taking my moped, the meeting might take a while but I need to be back by quarter to four because Gee is picking me up then," she explained, before checking her watch. "I'd better go, try not to break or destroy anything, you can walk to the shops from here, it only takes ten minutes, if the phone rings answer it and say I'm not out, don't give my details to anyone you don't know, don't answer the door unless you know the person, and ring me if anything goes wrong," she said, swallowing down her juice quickly. "There's food in the fridge, internet, cable TV and plenty of music and books," she finished, as Lye rolled her eyes.

"Yes _Mum_," she said teasingly. Ella grinned quickly and ran to the door, grabbing her purse and keys and leaving.

Wilhelm Darcy awoke early in the morning. He planned on going into the office again that day to check on the operations of the shipping company he had inherited from his father. He always considered music as his hobby, it was important to him not to make it his career, he couldn't make music if he knew that it was his job, per say. So he spent most of his time working at Darcy International, fitting into a normal person's schedule.

He got ready for the day listening to a copy of _To Be Kipling's Vice_, the first EP of Kipling. His fascination for the music – and the creator behind it was ever growing in size. She was just so – unusual, and unconventional! Her music was an unusual combination of simplicity and complexity, there was no middle ground, and the addition of the two made for an amazing partnership. Despite what she would say, he knew that she was really the mind behind Kipling, all the song were written by her, they all had her personality impressed upon them.

Ella Bennette… She interested him so! Why Canterbury Zimmerman? It wasn't her name, it wasn't who she was, was it to protect her from the media? She wasn't that vain, there must be a story behind it, he knew.

As he brushed his teeth he listened to the lyrics intently, her voice, a combination of incredible vocal chords and a raw openness giving life to the tunes, and he could visualise her in his mind.

"_When you lose someone,_

_How fleeting we are_

_You feel you might break,_

_Just counting the stars_

_Tattoo your love,_

_Across your bare chest_

_Chance to be silenced,_

_Alone in your head_

_Beautiful awkward pictures_

_That stay in your mind and linger_

_Beautiful awkward pictures_

_That you take with our eyes and fingers…_"

And for some reason he could visualise her to expert detail. The lines of her jaw into her neck, her arching smiles, her big dark French Blue eyes, her chocolate curls, even the curve of her waist into her hips, softly flaring out to slender legs. Her perfectly full lips as she sends him a biting retort…

He shook his head sharply, and pulled out his shaving cream and razor. He could _not_ continue down such thoughts, he had heard about her family, practically in poverty, her _Aunt_, the ridiculous woman on the phone who had been congratulation Jayne on snaring a wealthy husband… As pretty as Jayne was, and as sweet, he couldn't stand her, knowing that she was only leading Charlie on for the sake of his bank balance. It frustrated him to no ends to see her toy with him! Entering into a relationship with Ella would be worse than that, even though it was obvious she had some attraction for him.

He shook his head firmly to get the idea out of his mind, and let his razor clatter in the sink, a drop of red blood staining the side, wisps of crimson essence drifting down to the drain in the centre. He let out an irritated sigh and leaned towards the mirror, checking the small cut on the side of his cheek. There was a drop of blood poised to slither down his jaw.

Wilhelm swallowed, and centred his eyes on the blood. With much irritation, he noted that it reminded him instantly of the shade of Ella's lips. He _had_ to get her out of his head, before it was too late.

He didn't think of her for most of the day, he pushed her from his thoughts with statistics and stock market predictions, the numbers and reports filling his head.

"You need to get a life," Chris, his secretary commented, leaning against the doorway to Wilhelm's office. "All you do is work, I mean, you're a world famous musician and you don't even do gigs, you just sit in this office and add up numbers and order me around," he said, as Wilhelm glanced up at him, then back to his work.

"But by night I protect the citizens of London from the Green Goblin, I'm like Spiderman with slightly looser pants," he replied, as Chris snorted in laughter. "Now kindly fuck off, Robin," he added with a slight smirk.

"Robin is Batman's assistant," he commented, strolling over to Wilhelm's desk.

"I apologise for not being up to date with every Marvel comic, I endeavour to do my research and come up with a witty comeback tomorrow," he replied, closing a folder and placing it on the side of his desk, atop three others.

"Seriously man; it's five o'clock, go _home_," he ordered, as Wilhelm sighed.

"I'm keeping you, aren't I?" he replied, as Chris rolled his eyes.

"Well duh, Einstein," he retorted.

"Sorry, I'm finished anyway," Wilhelm assured him, standing up, and closing his laptop.

"_Finally_! I'll see you later old coot," Chris said, rushing from the room. Wilhelm laughed as he left, packing up the last of his things before he too left the room. He glanced outside, it was a nice day in London, if his house was closer to the office he would have walked home, but he couldn't leave his car in the carpark downstairs forever. But still, he felt like having some coffee or something before he went home.

He crossed the street to a café across the road and ordered a cup of coffee and a chocolate muffin, waiting patiently for it to be made by glancing out onto the street and looking at the people.

He almost gasped aloud when he saw who took a seat at one of the outside tables, but he knew that it just _couldn't_ be him, not with _her_, at least. But on closer inspection, it revealed the truth. It was Gerard Wickham with _his_ Ella, they were laughing and chatting and –

Wait, how long had she been _his_ Ella? She wasn't his; she was just some girl, not his personal property! Darcy took a deep breath and turned away from them, he couldn't stand the sight. What was she even doing with a man like him? Didn't she know that he was dangerous? Wilhelm glanced back over at them, and let a sad frown appear on his face. All the other girls were about her age or younger when he… Gina was the same age as her…

Wilhelm accepted and paid for his coffee and muffin before he started the leave the café, hoping to whatever God was up there that they didn't see him. But Ella looked up, and there was no hope for him. He was becoming seriously concerned about his attachment for that little bit of European trash. An educated piece of European trash, but still beneath him regardless. He had a duty to his family, to his heritage; he couldn't become distracted by _her_.

But evidently he _did_ become distracted, because by the time he had regained his senses, Gerard had turned around as well.

"Hey Darcy," Ella greeted, with a little disappointment and irritation in her voice. Wilhelm knew that she was probably ashamed to be seen with another man in front of him.

"It's nice to see you, Ella," he replied, before his eyes turned to Gerard. He was pale with fear as Wilhelm sent him a death glare. He was a good reason to be afraid, he recalled. "I had best go," he said sharply. "Please behave, Gerard," he finished, before leaving. He felt sick to his stomach. He hoped to dear God, for the innocent girl that was fascinating him so that Gerard wasn't up to his old tricks again.

**A/N: So how did you like it? I'm doing a little bit of foreshadowing here, and I hope you liked hearing some of Darcy's thoughts. Pretty soon we get a taste of his music as well! Please review :D**


	6. You're Beautiful

A/N: A bit more of Wickham in this one, and then some of bitchy Caroline, trying to get what she wants

**A/N: A bit more of Wickham in this one, and then some of bitchy Caroline, trying to get what she wants. Don't we all hate her so?**

**Disclaimer: Hmm…. If I owned P&P, Elizabeth would have slapped Darcy when he proposed.**

"What was all that about?" Ella asked when Darcy had walked away. There was a great deal of tension between the two, Gee had turned as pale as a ghost and Darcy a particular shade of red that was akin to great anger. "And _Gerard_? Is that your name?" she questioned.

"Yeah, I know its lame; but I have to put up with it," he replied, smiling faintly, and running a hand through his blonde hair.

"Don't worry, my name is really Ella-Rosé Dylan Freedom Bennette, and you're avoiding the question," she stated, as the waitress came out to get their orders. Gee ordered a cappuccino and some caramel slice, and Ella ordered just an iced tea. When the waitress had gone, Gee sighed, and ran another hand through his hair.

"Well, I doubt you'd be able to tell from our warm and fuzzy greeting, but Will and I don't get along," he began awkwardly.

"I gathered as much," replied Ella, as Gee gave a small laugh.

"Nothing gets past you and those pretty blue eyes," he complimented, as Ella rolled those pretty blue eyes. "Well, I told you that I grew up in London before we moved into Derbyshire," he said, as Ella nodded. "My Dad got promoted at Darcy International, he was old Mister Darcy's new Personal Assistant, and so we needed to be close to the family, to where they lived, especially when Mister Darcy moved back to Pemberley for most of the year," he explained. "Darcy and I were about the same age at the time, he was going to Eton when we first met, before he was shipped to some prestigious boarding school in Scotland," he continued.

"That explains the accent then," Ella muttered, as Gee nodded.

"So in the holidays we hung out all the time, we lived pretty close to each other, and Will didn't have many friends in Derbyshire, so we got along because we had no one else," he informed her.

"So you were friends," Ella stated, as Gee nodded, and folded his hands. He waited until the waitress had left again when she brought over their orders before continuing. "Will's mother died when he was sixteen, and his little sister was ten, she was in a car crash and was on life support for a few days, it wasn't so hard for them because they knew she wasn't going to make it the moment they saw her in the hospital, they had plenty of closure and understood what was happening, Will handled it as best he could, or so I thought," he explained.

"He lost his mother, I'm sure that it affected him," she pointed out, as Gee nodded.

"I think it was the loss of attention that affected him most, his mother always spoilt him, he never got on well with his father, and Will just slipped off the rails a bit," he replied. "He became a complete snob and really arrogant, he began drinking and messing with drugs, he nearly got expelled form his fancy school because he and his mates burned their names into the grass, and then he started sleeping with girls much younger than him and breaking and entering, as well as fighting," he explained, as Ella frowned slightly. That did _not_ sound like Darcy at _all_.

"I can't picture Darcy doing all of that," she replied.

"Listen, I know that we've only known each other for a few days, but Wilhelm Darcy is dangerous, he manipulates people to get what he wants," Gee objected. "I sat back and watched him self destruct, I tried to help him but he got angry at me, I thought we were best friends and he turned me out," he explained. "My parents died about a year after Will's mother, and Mister Darcy took me in like a second son, he saw potential in me and that meant a lot," he continued. "He guaranteed a position for me at Darcy International, he set up a trust fund, he was like a father to me," he said, looking thoughtfully at his coffee cup.

"Well why don't you work at Darcy International then? And why do you and Darcy still hate each other? Couldn't you work past it?" Ella questioned, knowing that something wasn't quite right.

"Will's father passed away eight years ago, he had a huge tumour in his brain and they only discovered it two weeks before he passed away, I thought I still had a life that I could go to when it was all over, but Wilhelm made sure that I didn't get to see any of it, he made his father disinherit me on his deathbed, I was turned out and left in the gutter, I decided to go to America, I had friends there, and I came back to London when I could afford to, and now I'm working for some cheap tourist paper and living in a tiny flat in the ghetto," he said, raising his coffee to his lips.

_Poor baby_, thought Ella, inwardly rolling her eyes. She didn't doubt that Darcy had screwed him over, but she felt that he was over exaggerating a bit.

"You don't have to believe me, we barely know each other and I didn't want to put all that on your mind, I just want you to stay away from him," he said, sighing. "I'm just being honest, I figure that you deserve that, you're not like other women I've met," he added.

"Thanks for telling me," Ella said finally, giving a small smile. She knew Darcy was capable of something like that, but… something didn't quite fit! She felt she had best give Gee the benefit of the doubt; she trusted and liked him more than she liked Darcy, even if he _was _a bit self-absorbed. "By the way, I'm sorry about the way my cousin behaved earlier, she didn't mean to gawp like that," she added, recalling the greeting Gee received when he knocked on Ella's door. Lye's jaw dropped and she immediately scrabbled over to him, pulling down her top and fluttering her eyelashes as she approached.

"That's quite alright, she's young," Gee replied laughingly. "I must say, she looks nothing like you," he added, as Ella shrugged.

"I take all of my looks from my mother's side, not my father's," she replied, sipping her iced tea.

"Your mother must have been… stunning," he said softly, tilting his head, and holding up his hands to make a square with his thumb and forefingers, a frame around her face. She laughed slightly as he evaluated the light. "You _have_ to let me take photos of you," he begged, tilting his head the other way, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"That's a very bad pick-up line," she pointed out, as Gee laughed. "There must be thousands of good-looking girls in London you can take pictures of," she said, as he firmly shook his head.

"You don't get it, you're beautiful but not traditionally, the curve of your jaw… your eyes, they're interesting, not just beautiful," he explained. "You have a certain angular quality about your appearance, like Keira Knightly, but prettier," he continued, before lowering his hands.

"Err… thanks?" Ella replied, laughing before she took another sip of her iced tea.

The evening passed in a comfortable manner. Charlotte soon joined them and they went off to see a movie before they had dinner in a nice noodle bar, Charlotte drove home and Gee took Ella back to her house, giving her a kiss on the cheek before he left. Ella couldn't fight back the blush, but allowed herself to calm down before she opened the front door to her house and walked in.

"OH MY GOD ELLA," cried Lye the moment she walked in. "HE'S _BEAUTIFUL_!" she practically screamed, as Ella rolled her eyes. She noted that they hadn't destroyed the place, but there were a few dirty dishes around the place, and a lot of magazines that she knew she hadn't bought.

"He's alright," Ella replied, putting down her bag and taking off her coat, placing her keys on the entrance table where she always left them and walked through to the kitchen, getting a glass of water.

"He's _amazing_," sighed Lye, falling back on the couch.

"And I don't think he's interested in you," Ella replied. "He's much older than you, it wouldn't work," she pointed out, as Lye scowled.

"You're only saying that because _you_ like him," she snapped. "I'm having a shower," she said haughtily, grabbing a pair of pyjamas and storming off to the bathroom.

"_Do_ you like him?" May asked curiously, almost startling Ella, as she hadn't made a noise previously.

"I don't know, he seems nice, but something doesn't quite fit, and yes, I know he's attractive as well," she replied, sitting back on the couch next to her cousin.

"He isn't as attractive as Darcy," she said simply, as Ella looked thoughtful for a moment.

"No, I don't suppose he is…" she muttered quietly.

"Someone called for you today," May informed her, as Ella started to pull off her sneakers.

"Hmm? Who was it?" she asked.

"Billy Collins, that friend of Mum's," she informed her, as Ella groaned and hung her head.

"What did he want?" she asked.

"I think he wanted to have dinner with you," May replied. Ella noted that when May wasn't around her mother or her sister she was much calmer, she spoke well and didn't say stupid things.

"It's all Aunt Fran's doing, you know," she said, kicking off her shoe and letting it land where it felt like. "Does she try to set you up with men too?" she asked curiously, as May shrugged.

"Yes, but I'm not normally interested, neither are they when they see me," she muttered.

"May! You're actually really pretty, you look _much_ better with your hair like that, have you ever worn makeup before?" she asked curiously, as May looked thoughtful.

"Does lipgloss count?" she asked.

"Not particularly," Ella replied.

"Then no, I haven't," she answered, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Normally I don't like makeup, it's really girly, but I could show you a few things," she suggested, as May smiled softly.

"Really?" she asked with a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

"Sure! Have you got anything to wear for Jayne's engagement party?" she asked, as May stared at her bag, a slight frown on her face.

"I did bring a dress over, but I didn't really want to go to the party," she answered.

"Is it black?" Ella asked, folding her arms, as May blushed.

"Yes," she replied, as Ella groaned.

"I'll let you borrow something of mine, you need some colour to brighten up your appearance," she said, as May blushed.

"Please, it's going to be a big party, I'd rather just wear black and be unnoticeable," she confessed, as Ella sighed.

"I'll find something," she promised, giving May's hand a tight squeeze. "Do you mind if I play the piano or the guitar or something? I still can't work out the damn bridge of this song, and I want to get it over and done with," she explained.

"I don't mind, I like your music," she replied, smiling softly, before returning to her book.

Ella glanced back at her cousin. Despite everything, she knew that May was really a good person; she just needed a chance to show that.

Ella woke up early in the morning, bright sunlight shining on her face. The days were warming up a bit, and as she looked out her window she decided that she would rather spend some time outside than sitting indoors all day. She knew that she had to do an interview that night, but that didn't stop her from going for an early morning jog. She quickly changed from her pyjamas to a grey tracksuit, her hair tied up into a ponytail, her ipod strapped to the side of her arm and her phone in the tight pocket on her tracksuit pants to it didn't fall out or drag her down.

"Going out again?" was the question she received when she went downstairs and poured out a cup of orange juice. She glanced over at the couch; May's head peered over at her from a pile of blankets, her hair rumpled and her eyes bleary.

"Yeah, just for a jog," she replied quietly, aware that Lye was still sleeping.

"Kay," muttered May, her eyes fluttering closed as she fell back into her pillow. Ella smiled before she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She grabbed her wallet, just in case she decided to get breakfast on her way back. She searched and found her sneakers that she had taken off the night before, pulling them on before she slipped outside.

She loved the feeling of the crisp air on her face. It was still early morning, and there was very little traffic out, so she started to jog into the quiet, sleeping London, her legs cursing her for the first proper exercise they had been treated to in a while, but so sorely deserved.

She had been jogging for half an hour before her phone started to buzz and play Placebo, if she hadn't switched it to ring and vibrate she wouldn't have gotten the call, because she had the soundtrack from Phantom of the Opera singing loudly in her ears, blocking out all other sound.

She quickly unplugged her ipod and answered the phone, trying to regain her breath.

"Ella? Hey, it's Charlie," was the greeting she received. "Are you okay?" he asked curiously, noting her sharp intakes of breath.

"I'm just going for a jog," she replied. "What's up?" she questioned.

"Listen, Jayne is sick, she's got a killer migraine and she's throwing up, I just thought that maybe because you used to live with her you might know what's wrong," he informed her.

"Really? I'll be right over, just try to keep her comfortable, look after my cousin!" she cried, ending the call and putting her phone back. She glanced over her shoulder. She was about halfway to Charlie's apartment, and if she went home she would only have to get her motorbike. It would be quicker just to jog to his place.

She put her headphones back in her ears and changed from her jog to an almost sprint, all the while picturing Jayne lying in bed, feeling awful.

It took her only twenty minutes to get to Charlie's building. She headed over to the elevator quickly and pushed the button for the top floor hard, nervous energy filling her as she rose up and up into the building. She got out of the elevator as soon as she could and knocked on Charlie's door hurriedly, eager to see Jayne.

"Oh, what are you doing here?" was the greeting she received when the door was opened. Ella nearly screamed in anger, it was Darcy, standing before her.

"Jayne is sick, do you really think I'm going to stay at home watching TV?" she asked sharply, as Darcy glanced over her appearance.

"Did you jog here?" he asked her curiously, as Ella put her hands on her hips, and sent him a death glare.

"Yes," she replied steadily.

"You really need to get your licence," he informed her, as she gave a frustrated cry.

"Move it or lose it Darcy, I just want to see Jayne," she snapped, as he moved aside. "What are you doing here anyway?" she asked sharply.

"Charlie and I were going to… discuss business today," he replied, as Ella gave a snort of laughter.

"You mean play Xbox?" she retorted, as Darcy blushed.

"Jayne is in her room," he said, before disappearing. Ella almost laughed out loud, but her concern for Jayne took over. She rushed through the hall to find her cousin's room, to discover the door was open, and Jayne was lying in bed, looking awful as Charlie hovered nervously around her.

"Ella! Thank God you're here!" he cried instantly, jumping up as if startled. "What's wrong with her?" he asked quickly, wringing his hands awkwardly.

"Jayne has a really rare reaction of chamomile, she gets a major migraine and her stomach goes all funny, she didn't have anything with chamomile in it, did she?" Ella asked, rushing to her cousin's side. Jayne was sleeping a bit fitfully, her skin very flushed.

"Err… she and Caroline went out yesterday afternoon, I know that they went to a café, maybe she had some tea or something with chamomile in it," he muttered. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, as Ella smiled and nodded.

"She should be up and going by tonight, was she like this when you woke up?" she asked, as he nodded. "Normally the reaction lasts less than twenty-four hours, and there isn't much you can do but let it go, and try to keep her as comfortable as possible," she explained, soothing her cousin's hair back.

"Alright – I can do that," he said, a great deal of relief in his voice. "Are you _sure _that there isn't anything I can get her?" he asked nervously.

"Well, yes actually, she needs to eat and keep her fluids up, so I think some chicken soup could be helpful, and maybe something with ginger to settle her stomach," she suggested, as Charlie looked thoughtful.

"I don't have any of that stuff," he said, after a moment. "But I can go get it!" he cried, as Ella smiled.

"That would be good, but it can't have too many preservatives in it, just something fresh and preferably organic makes anyone feel ten times better," she informed him, as he nodded.

"Err… I don't know where to get that stuff," he admitted, as Ella rolled her eyes teasingly.

"Alright, you know the street that I live on?" she asked, as he nodded. "Keep going down that road, through the suburbs, and then take a left when you see the Primary school," she said, as Charlie nodded, taking it all in. "Down that road you'll find a bunch of small shops, you want Harris Grocers, it's got a big green sign there," she continued. "You'll find everything you need in there, talk to Trent, he's the owner, a big guy who looks like Santa Claus, tell him that Ella sent you, and tell him about Jayne, he'll know what to get," she finished, as Charlie took a deep breath, memorising the details.

"Alright, so I go past your house, continue down that road until I get to the school, I turn left, it's called Harris Grocers, and I'm looking for Santa – I mean Trent," he recited, as Ella smiled.

"You've got it," she replied warmly, as he grinned. He quickly kissed Jayne's forehead and dashed to the door.

"Thanks Elle – make yourself and home, there's plenty of food and everything, and you've got Will and Carol to entertain you," he called back, before she heard him pull open the front door and leave the apartment. Somehow the thought of her company did not cheer her up whatsoever.

"Well Jayne, it's just you and me," she said quietly to her cousin, who mumbled a little in her sleep, and turned over.

Ella sat with her for about ten minutes, before she decided that her cousin needed to be cleaned up a little. She got a damp cloth from the bathroom and wiped her forehead and neck, cleaning up a bit of the sweat that had accumulated.

"Hey," Jayne croaked when Ella returned from putting the cloth back in the bathroom. Her voice was scratchy, but she looked a bit better. "It was the tea, wasn't it," she muttered, shifting a little and sighing as Ella took a seat next to her.

"Do you need anything?" Ella asked her with concern.

"Water and maybe some Panadol would be great," Jayne replied, as Ella smiled.

"Sure thing," she replied, getting up, and walking to the kitchen. Darcy was standing in there, pouring hot water into the teapot, looking up as she entered.

"Is Jayne okay?" he asked her, as she opened the cupboard and got a cup.

"Yeah, she should be alright, she just had an allergic reaction to something," she replied, opening the fridge and getting the water.

"The way you bit my head off before I figured she was dying," he replied. "Do you want some tea?" he asked her.

"No thanks," she replied. "And she's my cousin, I've got to look out for her," she informed him, pouring out the water and putting the jug back.

"Isn't she a fair bit older than you?" Darcy asked, as she opened the medicine cabinet.

"Yeah, but we shared a bedroom for three years, we got to know each other," she replied. "She means a lot to me," she added, still searching for the Panadol.

"Why didn't you take your bike here? It would have been quicker," he pointed out, leaning against the bench as he waited for the tea leaves to soak.

"I was jogging when Charlie called me," she replied.

"But why didn't you jog back and get changed, then take your bike back?" he asked, as Ella gave a frustrated cry.

"I just wanted to see Jayne! I didn't care if I look a mess, its Jayne that matters, not me," she replied, finally finding the Panadol, and taking out two pills. She picked up the glass of water and left the kitchen, trying to calm herself down before she entered Jayne and Charlie's bedroom. Jayne fell back into slumber a few minutes after she had swallowed down the Panadol and the water, her sleeping peaceful, her face returning to its normal golden peach shades. Ella picked up the cup and left the room quietly, wanting to give Jayne some peace so she could sleep.

Wilhelm's curiosity in Ella was growing; she jogged through London just to see Jayne? Even though she was just having an allergic reaction? The experience revealed to him another part of her character, her compassion.

"Honestly, did you just see Ella wander through? She looked a mess!" Caroline exclaimed after Charlie had run through, muttering about Harris Grocers and Santa Claus. Darcy _hated_ Caroline, she was attractive, yes, but she wasn't real, and she was quite plainly a very horrid person.

"She's just been jogging," Wilhelm replied, deciding to boil the kettle to make some tea.

"Jogging? Has she no decency? Why couldn't she go home and change before coming here?" she questioned, as Will shrugged.

"Maybe she wanted the exercise, I don't think she cared about her appearance," he rationalised, pouring the water into the electric kettle, before placing it on its stand and turning it on. "Besides, she didn't look a mess at all," he added, but Caroline ignored his comment.

"And just to see her cousin! Honestly, she really _is_ trash," she added. "Her hair in a mess like that," she muttered, shaking her head, as if it were truly a tragedy.

"Caroline, she looked quite pretty, actually, her skin had a nice vibrancy to it, and the exercise only brightened her eyes," he snapped. Caroline looked astounded for a moment before replying.

"Hmm, so you _do_ like that little slip of a thing," she commented, clearly affronted.

"I think she's attractive. She had nice hair, an interesting face and very expressive eyes," he stated simply.

"But you _like_ her," probed Caroline, trying to make him slip. Wilhelm gave a frustrated sigh.

"I think she's attractive. Today has shown that she is compassionate, and she has already proven herself to be very intelligent," he responded.

"She's nine years younger than you," pointed out Caroline.

"I admire her as a fellow musician, and as a fellow human being," countered Will, keeping his voice even and untainted by emotion.

"She comes from a middle-class family in the middle of nowhere," she added, folding her arms.

"She is well educated, and has interesting opinions," snapped Will, his tones becoming terse and irritated.

"And she has such a delightful Aunt," she continued.

"She had shown remarkable proof that genetics can be overcome," he replied.

"When should I expect the engagement to be announced? Will you two quarrel over album sales?" she questioned, as Will slammed his hand on the bench.

"Dammit Caroline, I don't want to play any games! She _interests_ me, I would sooner invite her Aunt to Pemberley than start dating her," he snapped finally. Caroline smirked. She had gotten what she wanted. She turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Will alone to calm himself down. God how that woman frustrated him! There was absolutely _no_ truth to what she said, there just couldn't be!

Could there?

**A/N: Having fun yet? You could have more fun if you left a pretty little review by the door :D I'd just like to say now that none of the songs I've used so far have been original. In the second chapter there was 'Step into the Light' by Darren Hayes, and then 'I thought you were God' by Clare Bowditch, and 'Beautiful Awkward Pictures' by Toni Collette and the Finish. **


	7. It's Jayne that matters

A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I promise to update soon

**A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I promise to update soon! I'm glad that people like the story, and if you're interested in it a little review couldn't do any harm! And I'm really interested in flames and critical comments as well, so I can improve what I'm writing. I'm starting to get a good idea about where this story is heading, it definitely won't be a clear cut 'everything is identical to the book except modern' P&P, so I hope you stay interested :D**

Charlie arrived back at the apartment about three quarters of an hour after he had left; bearing ginger biscuits and chicken soup that just needed a few minutes in the microwave.

"Trent was really nice, he was very helpful and everything," he informed Ella, as he took the soup from the microwave.

"You give her something to eat and talk to her, she's much better now," Ella said, as he grinned.

"Thanks," he replied, taking the bowl and the packet of ginger biscuits. "Stay here, will you? I know that I'll need you in case Jayne starts feeling ill again," he said, as Ella smiled and nodded.

"I'll stay for as long as Jayne needs me," she replied, as Charlie gave another grin.

"Thanks a bunch Elle, I knew I could count on you," he said, before disappearing into his bedroom. Ella smiled softly. People didn't normally count on her, it was a nice feeling. She wandered into the front sitting room, only to discover that Caroline and Darcy were both sitting in there. She was going to turn around until they noticed her, giving her no choice but to continue her path.

"Is dear Jayne alright?" Caroline asked her when she looked up.

"She's fine," replied Ella, crossing the room and once more going to the small selection of books. Darcy was tapping away on his computer, the scene reminding Ella strongly of the same scene that occurred almost a week ago in that room.

"I'm surprised you aren't tending to her now, you were so eager to be of service earlier," she pointed out, as Ella picked out a Joseph Conrad novel.

"Charlie wanted to spend some time with her," she replied, not feeling much like talking.

"Will you be attending the engagement party tomorrow night?" she enquired curiously.

"Yes," she answered levelly, taking her book to the window seat and pulling her feet underneath her lithe body.

"Have you gotten your dress yet?" she continued, obviously trying to keep the conversation up.

"Yes," she replied. "Tell me about your dress, Caroline," she said, as Caroline's face shone up. Darcy gave a snort of laughter as he watched her open her book and start reading, completely ignoring Caroline's rambling, which was quite alright, because Caroline wasn't paying any attention, simply talking.

Caroline's tyrant continued for a full five minutes before she finally sat back and glanced over at Ella.

"It sounds lovely," she replied, not looking up from her book. "You'll be the prettiest girl at the party," she added, with a monotone voice. "And how will you have your hair?" she enquired, glancing over at Darcy, who was also pretending to be interested, but was really watching Ella from the corner of his eye.

Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he saw her move on the window seat, pulling her book up to shield Caroline's eyes from her, but from Darcy's position he could see exactly what she was doing.

Her hand not holding her book was sliding under the hem of her tight tracksuit jacket, he saw a glimpse of glowing ivory flesh as her hand reach higher. He had no idea what she was doing, but he wanted her to continue doing it. He was granted with realisation when he saw her pull out her Blackberry and press a button, suddenly her ring-tone filling the room.

"Oops, I had better take this, but you should keep on telling Darcy about your hair, I think he's actually quite interested," she said, standing up, taking herself and her book from the room. Wilhelm almost laughed. She was sly and he loved it.

But he didn't love it so much when he had to listen to Caroline tell him all about her hair.

Ella privately congratulated herself on her victory. She had escaped from Caroline and had punished Darcy, she felt awfully smug. She returned to Jayne's room to find Charlie lying next to her, Jayne's head on his chest; his arms around her waist.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Ella asked softly, walking over to sit at her side. Jayne smiled softly, as did Charlie.

"I feel much better, thanks Elle," Jayne replied.

"She says she still feels a bit ill, and I don't want her getting up until tonight," Charlie said. "Do you think she'll be able to go to the party tomorrow night, or should I cancel it?" he questioned, as Ella smiled softly.

"Don't cancel it, I think Jayne will be fine, won't you," she said, smoothing back her cousin's hair.

"I'll manage perfectly," she replied, her voice still a bit scratchy.

"Have you eaten?" Ella asked, as Jayne nodded.

"Charlie and I ate that soup, and I had some ginger biscuits," she replied, as Ella scowled at Charlie.

"You ate her soup?" she questioned, frowning.

"It smelled delicious," he defended, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "I think I'm going to make some lunch, and maybe some more soup for Jayne," she added, kissing her cousin's forehead and leaving the two alone.

"Still here?" Caroline questioned, when Ella walked into the kitchen.

"I'm making lunch so that Jayne can relax," she replied.

"Ah, so you can cook?" Caroline questioned, sneering slightly. "I suppose you had to learn," she added. Ella knew that it was some sort of base comment referring to either the fact that she was French, or that she didn't come from a rich family. Either way, Caroline was being quite rude.

"I wasn't obligated to learn how to cook – I just learnt, and I'm not that good, but I can cook for myself and that's all I need," she practically snapped, opening the cupboards. She pulled out a packet of pasta and was about to put it on the bench, when Caroline snatched it from her, and put it back in the cupboard.

"Pasta kills people," she snapped, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, if it means so much to you I can make salad," she replied. Caroline gave a satisfied smirk and stalked off, Ella demonstrating French flair by giving her a rather rude hand gesture.

"I hope that's not aimed at me," Darcy commented, walking into the kitchen. Ella jumped a bit, before she saw who it was and simply rolled her shoulders back, massaging the back of her neck.

"That woman encourages murder," she snapped, opening the fridge. "What do you eat?" she asked him, as he shrugged.

"What do you eat?" he asked her.

"Anything without meat in it, so you have a wide range to choose from," she replied.

"You're a vegetarian?" he questioned, as Ella pulled out some cabbage, a carrot and some celery. When it doubt, make spring rolls.

"Yeah," she replied, digging in the pantry for some rice paper and rice noodles. "Where's the soy sauce?" she questioned, standing on the tip of her toes with expert technique, only acquired by taking five ballet lessons a year for three years, opening the highest cupboard and retrieving a bottle of soy sauce. "What's so bad about being a vegetarian?" she retorted, as he shrugged.

"I've never met a real, walking talking vegetarian before," he informed her.

"And I've never met a real, walking talking vegetable before," she countered, boiling the kettle. It took him a moment to get the joke, and by then it was too late to respond.

"What are you making?" he asked her.

"Spring rolls," she replied, as he quirked an eyebrow.

"How do you make those?" he asked her, as she rolled her eyes.

"Watch and learn," she said simply. He did watch as she shredded some cabbage and carrot and the chopped up the celery, defrosting some peas and corn pieces that were in the freezer and then setting out two plates and chopping board and a bowl. She preheated the oven and took the boiled water, pouring it on the plate. The plate had upturned edges, so the water didn't run over the table, but he was still curious as to what she was doing, particularly when she placed a sheet of rice paper on the plate.

She then took some funny looking noodles that looked very dry and put them in a bowl, pouring in the hot water and letting them sit. She took out the sheet of rice paper; it had been cooked and was very floppy. She put it on the chopping board, and then put in the cabbage, celery, carrot, peas and corn, putting some of the rice noodles on top before she poured soy sauce on it and wrapped it up.

She repeated this a few times before she put them in the oven, and then cleaned up.

"Don't tell me you've never seen a woman cook when she wasn't being paid to do so," she said, as Darcy turned a bit pink, and scowled slightly.

"It's interesting," he retorted in his defence. "When did you learn how to make those?" he asked her curiously.

"Err… you pick things up when you're cooking for yourself," she replied, shrugging. She set the timer and left the kitchen for Jayne's room, leaving Darcy sitting at the bench, his curiosity rising more and more. She was attractive, intelligent, compassionate, and she could cook. A bit. He was beginning to wonder if she was perfect, or if he was just blinded to her flaws.

He winced when he heard her slam into a wall and swear loudly in French. Maybe she wasn't perfect after all. And where had she learnt such language?

After lunch Charlie had to go to work, and Darcy attempted to leave but was pulled into a 'deep and meaningful' discussion with Caroline, so had no choice but to stay. Ella stayed with Jayne for a few hours, chatting to her; getting her anything she needed, not really paying attention to the time at all. May had called just before lunch, wondering where she was, so Ella had explained, but there had been no more reminders of where she should be until it was seven o'clock at night, and Ella was still laughing and chatting to Jayne.

Ella's phone rung, interrupting their bonding session.

"Ella Bennette here," she said, when she picked up the phone, the laughter still not dead from her voice.

"You're _so_ dead," was the response she got.

"Charlotte? Is that you?" she questioned.

"_Yes_ it's me; I can't believe you forgot the interview! I was going to call you but we had to go in, Denny and I have been sitting in a lounge for two hours talking about our friggen childhood because the star of the band _didn't bother to show up_!" she hissed.

"Oh dammit – I completely forgot! Jayne is sick and I've been looking after her," she explained.

"Listen, you're going to be in trouble if you don't turn up, there's still another hour left of the interview," Charlotte said hurriedly. Ella got up and went into the hall to continue the conversation without disturbing her cousin.

"Listen, Jayne is pretty sick, and Charlie isn't back yet, if I go she'll either be alone or have to talk to Caroline," she explained.

"And if you don't go it's your backside on the line!" exclaimed Charlotte, as Ella ran a hand through her hair.

"Jayne is more important than me getting a slap on the wrist for not turning up to a stupid interview," Ella snapped. "Tell the reporters that it'll give an interesting angle, to see the other two members of Kipling, and tell them to just _baiser_ off and stop putting pictures in their bloody magazines," she added, as Charlotte sighed.

"It's not that I don't care about Jayne, it's that you're my best friend, and I don't want to see you get in shit with the record company," she explained.

"Char, I appreciate it, but I'm not leaving Jayne if she's sick, good luck with the rest of the interview," she finished, before turning off her phone. She peered into Jayne's bedroom, she was asleep. Ella crept back out into the hall, and leant against the wall, sliding down to the ground. She knew full well that she was going to get a stern talking to from her agent, but she would rather that than a guilty conscience.

Wilhelm had just escaped Caroline, and was intending to go straight home for a long shower, scrubbing his skin where she had touched him with her bony, clawed hands. He heard the phone conversation just as he was about to leave, and paused, before shaking his head at the girl's stupidity. Then he realised that he would do the same thing for a person he loved. Maybe that didn't make her stupid, maybe that made her human.

But whatever it was, he knew that he couldn't dwell on it. In those past few hours he was beginning to realise the danger of paying too much attention to Ella Bennette. He needed to distance himself. He grabbed his coat and left the apartment. He would be damned if he would lose his footing due to some French slip of a thing.

Ella got back to her apartment at about nine that night, Charlie had gotten home late and she didn't want to leave Jayne alone with Caroline. She had received a phone call from her agent – he was furious with her at first but then started to see that it could be an interesting angle to go for, and would draw attention away from Ella and back to Charlotte and Denny. But regardless, he said if she ever pulled a stunt like that she would be in big trouble.

"You're back late," May pointed out when Ella returned home. May was watching one of Ella's movies, curled up against the couch quietly.

"Where's Lye?" Ella asked curiously, sliding out of her shoes and putting her wallet, ipod, keys and phone on the bench.

"She went to see a movie with her friend Shelby Forrester, she should be back soon," she replied.

"I'm going to have a shower and go to bed, I'm completely knackered," Ella said, getting her pyjamas from upstairs and then going back down to the bathroom.

May watched her cousin stumble upstairs, and then back down. She smiled softly, she was beginning to like spending time around Ella, she was different to the immature teenager who bit and screamed and fought against her Aunt Fran, but she was still very much the same as well.

**A/N: Remember to review! I'm getting worried about Ella, I haven't characterised her much and I want to focus on her for a bit, so look forward to more of Ella's POV in the future :D**


	8. Here we go

A/N: Well, since the last chapter was a bit shorter than normal (for me two and a half thousand words IS short) this one is way longer, sixteen pages on Microsoft Word

**A/N: Well, since the last chapter was a bit shorter than normal (for me two and a half thousand words IS short) this one is way longer, sixteen pages on Microsoft Word. This is my interpretation of the Netherfield Ball, the dress that May wears is the one I wore to my cousin's wedding, and the one Ella wore is the one my sister wore to her year twelve formal. I really like May, she's sort of a combination of Mary and Kitty and a little bit of Georgiana, but I really like playing with her character. I like to have believable characters so I've based May off a friend of mine, Rochelle, and don't worry, Rochelle doesn't mind :D The song used is 'Little Wonders' by Matchobx Twenty, it's really a great song. Please review!**

"There, you look beautiful!" Ella cried the next night as she finished up on May's light makeup.

"W – wow," muttered May, looking curiously at her reflection. Ella and May had spent most of the day together shopping, mostly for May's sake, and with Ella's money. "I mean it Elle, I look… so different," she exclaimed.

Ella smiled at a job well done. They had bought two dresses as well as some other clothes for May, and the one she was wearing looked quite good on her. She, like Ella had pale skin, but it was a bit pasty, so they had to be careful with the tones they used. May looked beautiful in her creamy white satin and pale pink dress; it was essentially a skirt with a light pink sash criss-crossing over her front, ending with a low backline. It complimented her small, high breasts and showed off her back, and Ella partnered it with a pair of light pink ballet flats, because May didn't feel ready for heels just yet. Her makeup was subtle; her lips painted a few shades darker than their natural tone, a bit of face powder and blush to highlight her cheeks, and her lashes had some mascara on them, her eyelids painted with a soft pearl shade. The dress looked splendid with her short, cropped hair, and lightened her eyes slightly so they didn't look unnatural.

"You look stunning," Ella complimented, as May turned slowly, her eyes still glued on her form in the bathroom mirror.

"I look like a girl," she said, as Ella laughed, and nodded.

"Yeah, you _are_ a girl, May," she pointed out, before giving her a quick hug. "Go show Lye, I bet you Auntie will be really happy when she sees you tonight as well," she said, urging her sister out of the bathroom.

"HOLY SHIT MAY!" Ella heard Lye cry. "Oh my god, you _actually_ look like a chick, not just a really gay guy," she said, as Ella rolled her eyes, and then walked out of the bathroom.

"Lye, where is your dress?" Ella exclaimed.

"This _is_ my dress," Lye replied, as Ella quirked one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Lye was wearing a very short black dress with no straps and a curved M neckline. It had red lace easily viewable under it at the top, and she had 'borrowed' Ella's thick red belt and put it under her bust to make her breasts look bigger. Her blonde hair was as usual, incredibly straight, and she was wearing too much makeup, and really tall red stiletto shoes.

"Are you kidding? You look more like a two pound hooker," she retorted, as Lye rolled her eyes.

"You can hardly talk, you aren't going in _that_, are you?" she asked, as Ella crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Lye, this is my dressing gown. I haven't changed into my dress yet," she stated, before she headed upstairs. She came downstairs with her dress bag, deciding to change in the bathroom. About twenty minutes after she went in she came out fully prepared for the evening.

Lye and May didn't have words to speak. She looked stunning. Her dress was in two colours, a creamy white and the exact same shade of blue that her eyes were. Ella twirled around to let them see the dress properly. The white part was the skirt, it started at about her bellybutton and went down, hugging her figure and falling just long enough at the back to trail the ground, and short enough at the front to see her shoes. The top of the dress had basically two pieces of blue satin covered in vertically gathered tulle. At the front it hung like a scarf, starting where the skirt began and going up around her neck before coming down, the material covering her breasts completely, but letting the shape be outlined perfectly. The second sash of blue came around like a waistband at the front, and then at the back fell down to the ends of her dress, her back almost completely exposed. Her hair was partially pulled up at the back, but mostly flowed around past her shoulders. She wore no jewellery, other than the long chained white gold locket she had received at birth from her parents. Her makeup was modest and light, drawing all attention to her eyes, which had mascara and eyeliner and eye-shadow to emphasize their shape and colour.

"Elle, you look… wow," gasped Lye. "Jesus Christ, that dress makes you look like sex on toast," she said breathlessly.

"Err, I don't really know if that's what I was going for, but thanks for the… compliment?" she replied unsurely.

"You look really beautiful, Ella," May said, blushing lightly.

"Are you kidding? You're going to be dazzling everyone at that party tonight," she praised, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Okay, Charlie is sending a car around to pick us up in about ten minutes, so I want to go over some ground rules," she said sternly, as Lye rolled her eyes. "_Please_ don't get knocked up, or completely smashed, no drugs, and… oh yeah, don't completely embarrass me," she said quickly. "Right, ready to go? I think that's the car now, it must be early," she said brightly, grabbing her clutch purse. Lye and May both rolled their eyes and exchanged a small smile as Ella arched a grin.

"You're a nutter," Lye informed her pointedly, grabbing her bag.

"Why thank you," she replied with a quick smile, before they left the house.

The car sent over was one of Charlie's, a dark blue Chrysler with an elderly driver, who didn't say a word the entire trip, even when Lye leaned over and turned the radio on very loud. She managed to work out that he had a hearing aid in, and was certain that it was turned off.

The engagement party was being held in one of the private function rooms of the Netherfield Hotel in the centre of London's fashionable district. Considering the amount of celebrities to attend, there was a fair amount of press coverage, hoping to see a glimpse of Darcy, the members of Kipling, Caroline Hurst, Britain's answer to Paris Hilton, or perhaps Jayne Gardiner herself, she was a very famous model, after all.

"Oh my god, this is _so_ awesome," exclaimed Lye when they got out of the car. "It's just like on telly!" she cried, staring in wonder at the red carpet that was a curtesy for the hotel, blushing and smiling and waving at the cameras being shoved in her face.

"They don't even know who she is and they're taking pictures of her!" exclaimed May with surprise, not aware that she too was being photographed.

"What's your name, Miss?" one camera man questioned. Lye scowled and looked offended.

"Don't you know me? Jeez, you need to get up to date, I'm Lye Gardiner, that's spelt L-Y-E," she replied, flipping her hair back. "Come on girls, we'll be late," she hissed, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Canterbury! Is it true that you and Wilhelm Darcy will be announcing your engagement tonight?" one reported cried out to her.

"Miss Canterbury, can you confirm that you and Caroline Hurst are dating?" another asked.

"What's your name, cutie?" one questioned, turning to May.

"Err – ah – I'm – I'm May – May Gardiner," she replied shakily, clutching onto Ella's arm.

"Miss Zimmerman, where did you get that dress? Give us a smile, _please_ darling, you look stunning!" cried one particularly ambitious blonde woman that Ella recognised. She gave a small, polite wave before continuing on.

"Canterbury, are you dating Wilhelm Darcy?" one of the earlier reporters questioned.

"I'm happy and single, thank you," she replied shortly. Normally she didn't mind what people said, but she and Darcy? That was just a joke, plain and simple.

"Darcy! It's Darcy! Darcy is here!" was the next cry, as a familiar silver Mercedes rolled up. Ella wanted to keep on walking, but she was practically being pushed back by reporters. They seemed to have doubled in size, Ella wondered if maybe David Beckham was turning up, or quite possibly the Queen.

Darcy got out of the back seat of the car briskly, wearing a very flattering black Armani suit, with black shoes and a black silk shirt, opened slightly at the front, looking very flash with a dark purple cummerbund and loosely tied cravat. He took formal to a new level, his dark hair in its usual dishevelled manner, with just enough curl in it to be dashing, but not too much to be 'pretty'.

"Oh my sweet Jesus almighty – he's gorgeous," exclaimed Lye when she saw him. Ella had turned away, and was trying to get one reporter away from her as May nervously clung onto her arm.

"Mister Darcy! Is it true that Canterbury Zimmerman is expecting your child?" a reporter questioned. Darcy sent that man a quiet glare.

"Please excuse me," he replied, working through the crowds. "I'm sorry, you seem to have lost half of your dress, would you like me to send out a search party?" he said in a low voice when he approached Ella.

"Haha, always the life of the party," she said sarcastically. Darcy bit his lip as he looked down at her. She really looked to gorgeous for it to be true in that dress of hers. Her smooth, creamy back completely exposed, that dress clinging to ever curve but still showing nothing… she was dangerously beautiful.

"Please, step aside or we'll have to call security," Darcy said, leading the breech through the reporters, Ella, Lye and May following closely behind.

"This is amazing," whispered Lye to Ella as they headed up the stairs, flashing their invitations to the bouncers, then to the doorman, and finally approached the events coordinator in the hotel lobby.

"Oh, I don't need to see your invitation, Miss Canterbury!" the man practically squealed. He was a very large man, and his voice was rather high, his face greyish. "Please go on right through, and enjoy your evening," he continued politely. "You too, Mister Darcy," he said, as Darcy nodded. He let the girls walk before him, completely bewitched by the site of Ella's bared shoulders and exposed sides.

As soon as he got in there he took a glass of champagne off a tray being offered to him. He wasn't much of a drinker, but he needed something to calm him down after the sight of Ella in that dress. The way the material clung to her… he thought it best not to continue that thought. He was having enough trouble as it was.

"Ella! You look absolutely amazing!" cried Jayne when Ella approached. She hugged her cousin before hugging her sisters, Ella apologising to Charlotte about the interview the previous day. Charlotte looked nice in another simple black dress; she informed Ella that Denny was wandering around chasing the waiters and their entrees as well.

"Hey, did Malcolm or James or anyone from the band show up?" she asked, as Charlotte laughed, and shook her head.

"You know what they're like! I know that they'll all be at the party tomorrow night, jeez, isn't that May? Wow, she looks fantastic," Charlotte continued, when she spotted May, who was chatting to Jayne.

"Yeah, can you believe that this is the first time she's ever worn makeup? I think she turned out really well," Ella replied. "Now be honest, is my Aunt here? Because last time I asked you if my Aunt was at a party you lied and I ended up in so much trouble that I still have nightmares to this day," she said seriously to her friend.

"Yeah, she's here, and she brought some funny looking man along with her, he says his name is Billy, and he's always talking about phones and some old bat," she replied, gesturing over to the drinks table, where Mrs Gardiner was getting started on the 'punch'. Ella almost groaned, Fran was very loud when drunk.

"Is everything set up?" Ella asked in a low whisper, trying not to let Jayne hear her.

"Yeah, and Denny is all ready as well," she replied quietly.

"Good," muttered Ella, glancing back at Jayne. "Hey, is Gee here? I don't know if he got the invitation, or if he wanted to come… but I wanted him to meet Jayne," she questioned, as Charlotte bit her lip.

"Actually, a friend of his is here, he said that Gee isn't coming, that he didn't want to be around particular people tonight," she replied, as Ella sighed.

"That's alright, I didn't expect him to come," she sighed.

"Don't feel bad, at least you've got ninety-five percent of the male population in this room ogling you," Charlotte said cheerily, getting some champagne from a passing waiter. Ella glanced around the room. May looked like a deer caught in headlights, Lydia had a very large Long Island Iced Tea in her hand and was flirting shamelessly with a friend of Charlie's, Aunt Fran was chucking punch down and screeching at the same time, and even Billy Collins was embarrassing himself by boasting of his close friendship with Prince William. She sighed. It wasn't looking like such a good evening at all.

Ella decided to ignore her family for a moment. The venue was really stunning, everything was in white or gold, the waiters wearing white suits as they carried trays of champagne around the room. Three were quite a few people there, most she recognised as friends of Charlie or people that Jayne used to with for or with, which meant quite a few celebrities. She did happen to notice a lot of stares, at first she was worried that her dress might be too revealing, but when she had seen some of the getups being worn she felt a boost of confidence. Compared to them she looked like a nun.

After all the guests had arrived dinner was announced. Ella was placed on the main table with Jayne, Charlie, Caroline, Charlotte and Darcy, Denny was sitting with some of his old University friends and Fran, Lye, May and Billy had a table to themselves, thankfully.

"Ella, you look just great," Charlie complimented when they approached their table. Ella smiled in response.

"Thanks Chuckie, but you had best pull out Jayne's chair for her, you want to be polite and everything," she said, as Charlie grinned and did just so. Jayne looked stunning in her strapless brocade dress of pale gold, her curls pulled up into an elegant bun.

Ella was completely startled, when, after she had sent Charlie off, another man took his place at her side, leading her to the table.

"Oh, hello Darcy," she greeted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. He was staring determinedly forwards, one hand lighting pressed on her elbow, being perfectly courteous. "Interesting colour choice, purple, that is," she complimented. "I'm curious, though, are your socks and underwear purple too?" she asked teasingly as he pulled out her chair for her, and she sat down. He glanced over the nameplates, cursing whatever God was up there that he had been put next to Ella. It was too much temptation in one night! He seated himself regardless, and leant down to his ankle, pulling up the hem of his pants. His socks were black. "Hmm, ah well, you probably couldn't buy purple socks, and I must say I've never seen a pair of male underwear in purple," she added, as Darcy nervously twitched his arm.

"How have you been?" he managed to choke out as the others took their seats.

"You mean in the last twenty-four hours that you haven't seen me? Quite well thanks," she retorted sarcastically. He nodded slowly, and sipped some champagne. He was really getting concerned for his own sanity. He had been developing a new strategy to handle his feelings for Ella, consider her as a child. But when he looked at her in that dress, he knew that the last thing she could be classified as would be a child.

Ella, on the other hand, was completely unaware of Darcy's thoughts, which was good, because they were at that time drifting down very un-childish roads. She didn't really notice any of the looks men were giving her; she was too occupied by chatting away with Jayne and Charlotte.

"I must say, May looks fantastic," Jayne said, as they glanced over at the next table. May was smiling softly as she talked to her mother, who was endlessly praising the change in her daughter.

"She needs confidence more than makeup and pretty dresses," Ella replied. "You remember what Aunt was like all those years ago, she gave all the attention to you and Lye and May was just completely left out," she said, as Jayne nodded sadly.

"I always tried to help her, but I guess you reached out to her more," she commented.

"She's a great girl, besides; we have a lot of things in common, we're the same age, we read a lot of the same things, I was thinking that maybe she should come to Marseille with me for a while, in her next college break, she'd love France," she continued.

"Lot's of French boys to distract her," added Charlotte, as the three girls laughed.

"Isn't she too young for that?" commented Darcy, doing very well to avoid all eye contact with Caroline, who was snapping at the staff for something or other.

"She's the same age as me," Ella replied, as Darcy turned a bit pink.

"Oh… that's alright then," he muttered, as Ella hid back a snort of laughter, Charlotte and Jayne even less composed as they too started giggling. "What? I mean, she's twenty-two, I thought she was sixteen or something," he replied ashamedly, but the girls were still laughing. "At least I've amused you," he said, rolling his eyes.

Dinner was a splendid affair. They had gnocchi with steak (Ella skipped the steak) and a creamy white sauce with some very nice wine. Everyone was enjoying themselves and chatting all through dessert (chocolate tiramisu, Ella's favourite); even Darcy smiled once or twice.

"Elle, lets get Denny, it's time," Charlotte hissed, pulling her friend from her hair.

"What's up?" Jayne questioned when they stood.

"Wait there, we have a surprise," Ella replied with a cheeky grin.

"Elle, you know I hate surprises," Jayne said firmly, as Ella only laughed.

"Too bad," she replied, arching a grin, before she followed Charlotte in her retrieval of Denny.

"What's going on?" Darcy asked the happy couple curiously.

"Probably some horrid display," drawled Caroline pointedly, before she was ignored.

"I'm not sure, Ella just said that they had a surprise for me, but I hate sur – what?" said Jayne, stopping in mid-sentence as she watched her cousin, Charlotte and Denny get on the stage, Ella taking a microphone and turning it on, with a little bit of nervous energy.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Ella greeted, as chatter in the room came to a close. "Err, I'm Canterbury, or Ella, if you prefer, and I'm Jayne's cousin," she began. "This is Carmen and Denzel, and we would like to play a little song for our dear friend and her soon-to-be husband Charlie," she announced, as the guests gave a cheer. Ella glanced back at her band members, Charlotte had her cello out and was ready, Denny was sitting before the bongo drums and the piano was waiting for her. "I hope you have a wonderful wedding, and a wonderful marriage Jayne, I love you very much," she said, as the audience gave a sigh, and waited with baited breath.

"_Let it go_

_Let it roll right off your shoulder_

_Don't you know?_

_The hardest part is over _

_Let it in,_

_Let your clarity define you, _

_In the end,_

_We will only just remember how it feels_"

She sung with a great deal of feeling, and it had an interesting effect, a combination of the piano, cello and bongo drums. Ella didn't look up to see Jayne's expression; she _knew_ that her cousin hated surprises.

"_Our lives were made, in these small hours _

_These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate _

_Time falls away but, these small hours _

_These small hours, still remain_

_Let it slide,_

_Let your troubles fall behind you_

_Let it shine,_

_Till you feel it all around you _

_And I don't mind, if its me you need to turn to _

_We'll get by _

_It's the heart that really matters in the end_

_Our lives were made, in these small hours _

_These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate _

_Time falls away but, these small hours _

_These small hours, still remain_

_All of my regret, will wash away somehow _

_But I cannot forget, the way I feel right now _

_In these small hours, these little wonders these twists and turns of fate, _

_Yeah these twists and turns of fate_

_Time falls away, but these small hours _

_These small hours still remain, still remain_

_These little wonders, oh these twists and turns of fate_

_Time falls away, but these small hours, _

_These little wonders still remain…_"

When the song had ended Ella stood up, she, Charlotte and Denny linked arms and gave a short bow as people applauded and cheered. They made their way back to their table as people started to stand up and head to the dance floor, music beginning to play once again.

"Ella! That was beautiful!" cried a teary eyed Jayne as she wrapped her arms around Ella's petit form tightly. "God, that was so beautiful," she murmured.

"Thanks kiddo, that was fantastic," Charlie praised, clapping Ella on the back.

"Thank you muchly," she replied, grinning cheekily.

"Ella! Dear, that was splendid," came a nasally voice from behind Ella, as a small crowd surrounded her.

"Err… hey Billy," she muttered, hiding back a frown when he stepped forwards. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a black bow tie, his hair slicked forwards with too much gel, his beady little eyes closing in on her chest area.

"I think I should claim you for the next few dances, Ella, before someone else beats me to it," he grinned in a slimy manner, as Ella almost shivered.

"You know, I don't really feel like dancing…" mumbled Ella.

"Nonsense! Billy, she's just being shy, _dance with him_, Ella _dear_," hissed Mrs Gardner forcefully, glaring at her niece with sharp eyes. Ella sighed and allowed Billy to take her to the dance floor, joining many other couples who were already dancing.

"You look positively _divine_ in that dress, Ella dear," drawled Billy eagerly, his eyes raking obviously over her form. "Why, even Anne, my wonderful employer's protégée couldn't compare to your loveliness, and she _is_ the daughter of a Duke," he continued.

"How wonderful," Ella replied, rolling her eyes as Billy placed a hand on her waist, and held the other with his spare hand, and began to lead her around the floor, Ella entertaining her amused friends with gagging expressions whenever Billy wasn't looking.

As soon as the dance was over another young man cut in, eagerly informing Ella that his little sister was a huge fan of hers, and had attended three of the Kipling concerts. Ella danced two songs with him, he was a friendly fellow, and after agreed to sign some things for him to give to his sister.

After dancing with him, Billy came back and insisted on another dance, she got away from him at the first moment she could, and headed to the drinks table to get some champagne and to talk to Charlotte.

"Charlotte, I swear to God I'm going to kill that Billy Collins," she hissed to her friend.

"You may have to race Darcy to the mark – he's been sending Billy death glares all night," Charlotte replied.

"Darcy is weird. I'm beginning to dislike him considerably," Ella commented.

"This isn't about what Gee said, is it?" Charlotte questioned sharply. "Elle, you have no reason to think that what Gee said is true, he could just be trying to get into your pants," she said sternly, as Ella jutted her chin forwards obstinately.

"I have no reason to think that Darcy _didn't_ do it," she replied. "He's always been rude and stuck up, he's given me no reasons to think well of him at all," she added pointedly, as Charlotte sighed.

"So what, he's a bit standoffish and a bit on the rude side, but he's also been staring at you all night, and barking at anyone that tries to distract him," she snapped.

"He's probably trying to work out what some stupid kid is doing at a nice party like this," replied Ella. "Listen, he doesn't like me and I don't like him, that's all there is to it," she said simply.

"How do you know he doesn't like you?" Charlotte questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

"He's _always_ rude to me and condescending, he treats me like a child if he's not insulting me outright," she replied. "It doesn't matter anyway," she added, sipping the last of her champagne. "Doesn't May look nice tonight?" she commented, changing the topic.

"Yeah, she came out really well," Charlotte replied. Ella scanned the room. May was lurking around the edges of the room, trying to be invisible but really drawing attention to herself. Whenever someone spoke to her she said something silly or inappropriate, she was nervous in company and had little control over her speech. Lye was now flirting with a rich, elderly widower shamelessly, as onlookers laughed and pointed, and Fran was boasting loudly to her friends about her daughter's splendid marriage prospects.

"And what with Jayne marrying into such high social circles, my _other_ two girls are bound to meet some lovely, attractive rich men, oh how well Jayne has done!" she cried, as a few people surrounding sent her disbelieving and condescending looks. Ella almost groaned, they were just embarrassing.

"Jayne looks lovely though," Charlotte added, looking over at the happy couple, dancing in the centre of the room.

"Charlie is pretty lucky to have her," Ella commented, looking over at her cousin affectionately.

"I don't think that Charlie, or anyone else knows that," Charlotte replied, as Ella sent her a curious look.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, as Charlotte sighed.

"Well, I mean, you have to admit, for an objective onlooker it doesn't look like she's that interested in him," she pointed out.

"It's not Jayne's fault! She's just shy, that's in her nature!" she objected, but Charlotte only shrugged.

"Well Charlie doesn't know her as well as we do, neither do many others, I mean, you _have_ heard what they're saying about Jayne," she replied, as Ella slowly nodded. Jayne had been labelled as a gold digger and a complete vulture, only after Charlie's money and status. "_We_ know it isn't true, but not many else do," she explained.

"If Charlie can't see her character well enough to realise that she loves him then he's just stupid," she snapped.

Ella had actually been nervous about that prospect. She knew that Charlie and Jayne loved each other very much, but Jayne wasn't that good at showing emotion, she could often be misinterpreted. But she knew for certain that Charlie was completely besotted with her cousin, and would do anything for her. He _must_ know the way she felt about him too.

"Oh dear, Darcy is looking at you again," Charlotte informed Ella. "No, don't turn around, stupid!" she cried, holding her friend's arm steady. "Just act natural," she ordered.

"How can I _not_ act natural?" questioned Ella in response. "What, do you want me to be a robot? Like Darcy?" she asked, as Charlotte laughed.

"He's not a robot," she insisted, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Yes he is, he's a big scary robot who is going to kill everyone in this room with his ninja mind powers, you should be very afraid," she advised, as Charlotte snorted in laughter.

"I thought _you_ were the only one with ninja mind powers," she pointed out.

"He stole mine from my brain, now all that's left up there is a little bit of fluff and a continuous reel of those old black and white cartoons with the twelve bar blues playing over and over again," she replied, before the two started laughing, Ella having an empty head was an ongoing joke between them.

"You know, if I didn't not want to be seen as a lesbian I would totally tackle you to the ground and make you shutup," Charlotte laughed.

"And if I _did_ want to be seen as a lesbian I would totally let you," she replied, as the two started laughing all over again.

"Err… Ella. I would like it if you would dance the next song with me," was the blunt statement that ended their laughter. Darcy was standing in front of the two girls, his hands held to his sides, his request for Ella to dance with him sounding a lot more like an order.

"Do it! Dance with him!" whispered Charlotte in her ear quickly.

"I can't! I would be breaking my vow to hate him for the rest of my life!" Ella replied in a low whisper, before the two started laughing again. "Err – umm – yeah, okay, I'll dance with you," Ella replied awkwardly, instantly wishing she hadn't agreed. At least there was a nice enough song on, and it wasn't a slow dance or anything.

"Thank you," Darcy replied, holding out his arm. Ella hesitatingly, took it and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, sending a pleading glance back to Charlotte. She almost screamed in frustration when the moment they stepped onto the floor the music changed, the stage band started playing an intimate, acoustic version of a song by James Blunt, 'You're Beautiful', with only an aching piano and an acoustic guitar, and couples began to move closer together. Ella blushed as Darcy almost awkwardly stepped towards her. "Can you dance?" he asked her quietly, as she shrugged.

"A little," she replied. "Not much of this kind of stuff though," she added, indicating the almost waltz-like dancing taking place that evening.

"Here," he said, taking one of her hands and placing it on his forearm, the other he enclosed with his (revelling in how tiny and smooth her hands were) and placed leaning against his chest, whilst he placed his other hand on her back, touching the exposed creamy flesh he had been dying to feel all night. He bowed his head down slightly, and they started to slowly move to the music, and Ella could scarcely believe how… natural it all felt to her.

"I like this song," she commented, as he nodded.

"It's nice," he replied quietly, basking in that moment of closeness in a manner that he knew he shouldn't be engaging in.

"Your turn to say something," she pointed out.

"Do you always force your dancing partners into conversation?" he asked her curiously, as she sarcastically rolled her brilliant blue-grey eyes.

"No, actually, I prefer to be cold, aloof and distant, everything is much more fun that way," she retorted. "I mentioned the music, you could talk about the venue, or the food, or the wine, or the people," she suggested.

"I'm perfectly willing to comply if you'll only tell me what you want me to say," he replied.

"Hmm. I suppose that will do, for now," she responded. They were silent for a moment more, before Darcy spoke again.

"Do you always jog in the mornings?" he asked her curiously.

"I like to, I didn't have much chance when I was on tour," she replied. "I like walking though, walking around, sitting in a café and drinking tea, it's calming," she added.

"I've seen you in that café across the road from my office a few times," he said conversationally.

"I like that café," she replied. "You meet interesting people in there," she added. "I actually met Gee in there a few days ago, you two know each other, I understand," she added, as Darcy stiffened.

"Gerard is very good at meeting new people," he stated, his voice surprisingly rough and low. "He can't keep the friends he makes, unfortunately," he added.

"I also understand that you two are no longer friends," she added.

"I have a very good reason to avoid Gerard, and I suggest that you avoid him as well," he advised, as Ella's eyes flashed with anger.

"Don't you _dare_ presume you have any authority to tell me whom I associate with," she snapped, a fire dancing in her beautiful eyes. It was much more of a stimulation for Darcy than anything else; she looked so very attractive when she was irritated. She glanced around him; a couple was giving them a curious look when they heard wisps of their conversation.

"I don't presume anything," Darcy said in a low, calm voice, speaking in perfectly fluent French. "I am only concerned for your welfare," he added.

"I can look after myself, I'm a big girl, Mister Darcy," she replied, she too changing her language to match his.

"Not really, even with heels you aren't that tall," he commented, meaning for it to be teasing.

"Hmm. How flattering," Ella replied, lowering her head to watch her feet, making sure she didn't trip.

"How much longer are you staying in London?" he asked, as Ella shrugged.

"I don't know, my father is still in Germany, and he might not be getting back for a few months, so I think I may stick around until the wedding is over," she replied.

"What's keeping your father in Germany?" he asked curiously, changing back to English.

"They had very good research facilities in a hospital in Berlin," she replied shortly.

"Oh," was Darcy's only response. "And I take it he isn't a researcher…" he trailed off, as she nodded.

"He's a patient," she replied. "I don't feel like going home by myself, and I like spending time in London," she added, changing the topic. "I have friends here," she added.

"I still can't believe you consider _Gerard_ a friend," he muttered under his breath, Ella only just catching what he said.

"I'm sure his loss of _you_ as a friend is extremely painful to him," she replied, as _his_ platinum silver eyes flashed.

"I doubt it," he responded coldly.

"I'm sure it's an irreversible result, as well, after all, you did say that you find it hard to forgive," she added, testing how far she could go with this man. His strong grip moving from her hand to clutch her wrist, and his tightening hold on her waist alerted her that she had perhaps gone too far.

"Why are you so interested?" he practically spat out.

"I just want to work out your character, _Mister Darcy_," she replied pointedly.

"I'm curious, what have you come up with so far?" he asked, as she softly bit her lip, her eye contact flickering.

"I don't know, I've heard so many different things that I don't know what to believe," she admitted.

"I would prefer if you didn't try to sketch me out right now, I'm not myself," he snapped in a surprisingly low voice. He certainly wasn't himself – getting aroused in an argument with this… _girl_? It was _not_ like him at all.

"Well I doubt I'm going to have much opportunity to do so again," she replied.

"I would never deny you an opportunity to dissect another puzzle," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. They were no longer moving, even though the music was still going, and he was still holding her quite tight, but it seemed that the rest of the world had stopped around them. Out of the blue, Wilhelm felt an irresistible urge to pull her closer to his body and capture her lips in a passionate kiss, and then whisk her back to his house and not let her leave for a few weeks. He realised that maybe he interested her just as much as she interested him…

His hand on her waist slid over to her back, and over the silky skin, and his grip on her wrist loosened. He hoped he didn't hurt her, she was so much smaller than him, and he was rather strong, if he didn't say so himself.

The dance ended, each parties thanked each other, and they turned heel in opposite directions.

"Ella, there was so much sexual tension radiating between you two that I'm surprised you didn't spontaneously combust from it," Charlotte said the moment Ella returned, as she quickly grabbed her third champagne for the evening, not to mention the glass of wine at dinner. She swallowed the champagne down quickly and took a deep breath.

"I don't think I ever want to see that man again," she said.

"Even if he –"

"No. Never again."

**A/N: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review! I need to know what I'm doing wrong or right! I have two more chapters written already and I'll try to update them, but my core exams are on next week and I need to study if I want to beat the pants of everyone else in my year. But maybe some nice reviews will cheer me up!**


	9. The One you love

A/N: Grr, exams

**A/N: Grr, exams! I'm halfway through them, but still – grr! I'm posting the last of the chapters I've already written over the next week, but then I'm disappearing to lye on a beach for week :D but don't worry, as soon as I get home I'll post one! I leave on the 28****th**** and I get back on the 5****th**** of October, so it's not **_**too**_** long a wait :D I'm really glad heaps of people liked my stories 'Epic Mind Failure' and 'I really Hope this Works', they were a lot of fun writing them, and thanks for all those wonderful reviewers! You make me feel so happy!**

**Disclaimer: Err… no. I don't own the song either, it's by Leonard Cohen (the good observer will note that) and it's called 'The One you Love', and the actual song sounds nothing like the way Darcy is playing it, I just like the lyrics :S**

It was very late when Charlie's driver took the girls home, they stumbled into Ella's living room; Lye still chatting loudly about what a lovely evening it had been, Ella completely silent. She was mortified.

The behaviour of her family had been atrocious. Lye's drunken flirtation with anything that moved was just the beginning, Fran had been screeching to anyone she could find about how good her darling Jayne was to find a rich husband, and although Ella didn't blame May, she _had_ said some pretty embarrassing things when she was being questioned. And not to mention Billy! He had been chasing her almost the whole night, blabbering on about his 'wonderful employer' to no ends, and then had he introduced himself to _Darcy_! Ella winced at the memory. She had done her best to hide her family's behaviour from Jayne and Charlie, and she was quite sure she had, but she was exhausted and humiliated as the result.

"Ella!" cried Lye, waking her cousin up from her musings. "I was just asking you if you think this is going to be on telly," she repeated.

"I really hope not. I'm going to bed," she snapped, heading up the stairs. She did _not_ want Lye to go to the party the record company was throwing the next night. May, yes, she needed practise, and _this_ time Ella would keep her close, it was a bit more of a casual event, and she wanted May to be more comfortable around people.

Ella slid out of her dress and pulled on a baggy tee-shirt, falling asleep in her boylegs. She was tired and she just wanted that whole night to go away. It wasn't really like her to care about what other people thought, it sounded like a cliché rock-star ideal but since it didn't affect her she felt no need to waste time worrying about it. But when it affected Jayne as well as her she got upset, Jayne was like a best friend to her, like a sister, and she didn't want her to be embarrassed on such an important night.

But it didn't matter. It was too late to do anything. Ella rolled over and let her eyes flutter to a close. She was tired and she couldn't go back in time to change anything.

Wilhelm Darcy couldn't sleep. He couldn't get the image of Ella Bennette standing before him in that dress, looking so amazing that he could almost cry, because no matter how much he wanted her, he just couldn't. She was untouchable! He remembered, as a young boy, when his father had sternly said that there were some things, that due to his social standing he could not have. He had meant tattoos or drug addictions or messy hair, but now Wilhelm knew that it was symbolic of a lot more, it was symbolic of Ella.

He angrily punched his silk covered pillow as he rolled over in bed. It was four in the morning but he couldn't sleep, _she_ was stuck on his mind and he couldn't get her out of it. He could still feel the delicious softness of her skin on his hands, he could still see every curve and feminine asset in his mind's eye, he still felt the burn of her angry gaze and try as he might; he couldn't deny it. He was completely infatuated with her. He had been fooling himself when he thought it was just a fascination, when he thought he only appreciated her for her music and for her intelligence, he had been lying to himself! He just wanted for her to be rid of his mind, he didn't _want_ to be attracted to her, it was just impossible.

After all, she was younger than him. She was only twenty-two, and he was turning thirty-one in three weeks. And she came from a very unsuitable family, he saw the way that her Aunt and cousins behaved at the party – it was atrocious! Ella looked to be mortified, with that adorable expression of extreme guilt and humiliation on her lips, fast becoming a little pout – _no_, he couldn't think of that! Even if she rejected everyone but Jayne from her family, he had still heard what people said about her parents. It didn't matter that a hundred years had passed since people had started to realise that social standing wasn't everything, to the Darcy family, it _was_.

They were as old, or older as the royal family! In the eighteenth century his family had been English Royalty, why, one of his great-great-great-something-Grandfathers had ruled Britain for ten years! His Grandfather was a Duke, after all, and Wilhelm himself was a Lord! There was a _very_ high expectation of the kind of girl he was going to marry, she had to be very rich, very well connected, and quiet and submissive, her only mission in life to make Wilhelm happy and to create an heir. Ella had money; of course, she was a famous musician, but not nearly enough for her to be a marriage possibility for him. She wasn't very well connected at all, she was definitely _not_ quiet and submissive, he thought with a chuckle, and to be perfectly honest he liked that about her, she was fiery and opinionated, he liked it, her personality amused him, but it was _not_ suitable. And she would never resign herself to simply making Wilhelm happy and creating an heir, she loved her music and he didn't think he would be able to take that away from her.

Sighing, he rose from bed, wearing nothing but a pair of loose hanging sleeping pants. He ran a hand through his mussed hair and crossed his room, pushing open the door and heading downstairs. He was the only one at the house that night, Mrs Reynolds was the only one who ever slept over and she was visiting her brother for the weekend. He flicked on the lights and headed downstairs to the music room. He had to get her out of his head, even if that meant playing her out of his mind.

He settled himself in front of his piano – a gorgeous black full sized Steinway and Sons grand. He softly placed his fingers on the keys and pressed down, soft music filling the room and lingering, delicate notes spinning around in his head as he played. He stepped away from the piano, and headed over to his extremely high-tech keyboard. He turned it on and sat down, searching for the right buttons for record.

He started to play, not really knowing or caring _what _he played, but all the while the image of Ella was swimming around his mind, twisting and turning and laughing and arching a playful grin, he played until he had immortalised her into music, when she was a song, captured in the hard drive of his keyboard, something that could be played back and manipulated, turned up or down or be turned into a ringtone. He played it back and smiled softly. He could cut off the first ten minutes, he was just settling into the piano then, most of that was repetitive junk. But in the middle there was seven minutes of pure _Ella_, that seven minutes had captured her completely!

He got his laptop from his study next door and plugged it up to his keyboard, the song he had just played opening up on Melody Composer, the sheet music readable and playable. He cut most of it out, saving only the best, and wirelessly sent it to his printer. He ran and fetched the document.

He was going to immortalise her. He was going to have her the only way that he could. Through music.

The sun was just rising by the time he had finished the song completely. He was surprised at how easy it was to make music with Ella in mind. He nervously passed the mouse over to the play button. He clicked the left mouse and sat back.

It started off with two F keys of different octaves pressed together, then a G and a high E after that. Then the song erupted into complex piano work, a violin rising and keeping it the piano steady as notes tumbled almost clumsily around, but every note had its place, ever note was put in the perfect spot for it to remain. A guitar started when the drums came in. It wasn't a rock song. It was something caught between classical and rock, the combination was… extraordinary, if he didn't say so himself.

"_Many men have loved the bells  
you fastened to the reins,  
everyone who wanted you  
they found what they will always want again…  
Your beauty lost to you yourself  
just as it was lost to them_

Oh take this longing from my tongue,  
whatever useless things these hands have done  
Let me see your beauty broken down  
like you would do for one you love

Your body like a searchlight  
my poverty revealed,  
I would like to try your charity  
until you cry, 'Now you must try my greed'  
And everything depends upon  
how near you sleep to me

Just take this longing from my tongue  
all the lonely things my hands have done  
Let me see your beauty broken down  
like you would do for one your love

Hungry as an archway  
through which the troops have passed,  
I stand in ruins behind you,  
with your winter clothes, your broken sandal straps

_  
I'd love to see you naked over there  
especially from the back_

Just take this longing from my tongue,  
all the useless things my hands have done,  
let me see your beauty broken down,  
like you would do for one you love

Like you would do for one you love"

The lyrics were at parts almost whispered, filled with longing and passion. He wanted her. He could deny that no longer. He wanted her, but he couldn't have her. He needed to get away before his… infatuation became anything serious.

He burned the song onto a CD and turned off his laptop, his mind clear. He was safe. Ella was sitting inside a blank CD case on his desk.

"Charlotte?"

"Is that you Elle?"

"Yeah, are you willing to come out with me today?"

"Err, why? Didn't you go shopping yesterday? I've already gotten my dress for Tuesday,"

"No, I promised that Billy Collins that I would have lunch with him today, I need you there so I don't kill him,"

"Hmm. Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you love me very much,"

"Lies."

"Come on Char, for me! I can't stand that guy!"

"Alright, but you owe me,"

"I know, I owe you my life,"

"Hmm. Whatever. Where and when?"

"The café at one,"

"I'll be there, don't you _dare_ ditch me,"

"I wouldn't dare. He has my phone number and you know where I live,"

"I'll see you there,"

"Thanks Char," Ella said, before they hung up. Ella sighed, and put her Blackberry back on her bedside table, and rolled around in her satin bedcover. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and ignore Billy and Lye and Fran for the rest of her life, but she didn't have that option. She ran a hand through her dark curls before sitting up. She hadn't drunk too much the night before, so her head wasn't killing her, but there was a decided throbbing and her mouth felt a bit fuzzy. She glanced down at the girls on the couch. They were fast asleep, Lye snoring lightly. Ella got up and pulled open the doors to her walk in wardrobe. She dug out a pair of faded blue bootleg jeans, ripped at the knee and a fitted blue tee-shirt with a smurph on it, and a black wool cardigan. She grabbed her black All Stars to add to the mix and headed downstairs to the shower.

London was fast becoming a bother. She liked the madness of it all, she had been touring for almost a year, never sleeping in the same bed twice, hardly aware of the country she was in as she travelled, but she felt like she was being strangled by people. She couldn't write like she could before, her mind was full of things; she needed to be free of everyone else….

But it didn't matter. Jayne wanted Ella to be at her wedding, and she would stay until the wedding. She would go back to Marseille, or maybe Paris and settle back into her own self again before she continued to write. She wouldn't let these people get to her.

Charlotte and Billy were already at the café when Ella arrived.

"Oh Ella! I was just telling Charlotte here about Rosings, the company _and_ the estate, she's fascinated," Billy said when he saw her approach and sit down.

"Have you ordered yet?" she asked.

"Not yet, we were waiting for you," Charlotte replied, glancing nervously back at her friend. The waitress came out a minute later and they ordered lunch, conversation at an all-time low.

"So Ella, did you enjoy the party last night? I thought you looked great, although many men there were being _very_ obvious about it, staring at you like that. Have they no decency?" Billy said suddenly. Ella rolled her eyes.

"I don't really care that much," she said truthfully, staring out into the street. She glanced up at the large, attractive office building opposite the café. It had tinted windows and black steel, it was sleek and understated, 'DARCY INTERNATIONAL' in big silver letters down the side of the building. She knew that he owned the company, so he probably worked in the top office. She looked at the top floor; it had the largest windows and a balcony around the side. She couldn't see inside it, but she wondered if he was in there, working hard and ignoring everyone else. He deserved to be alone, she thought decidedly.

When Ella returned to earth she realised that their lunch had arrived. She opened up the bottle of Red Orange soft drink and sipped the bubbly liquid. Charlotte and Billy were talking, or rather, Billy was talking.

"So Ella, where did you go to University?" Billy asked her suddenly, as she set her drink down on the table.

"Université de Paris," she replied.

"And what did you study?" he asked her curiously.

"I got a bachelor of arts, I majored in French Literature, Philosophy and Phycology," she answered.

"Why did you go to college then?" Billy asked, as Ella narrowed her gaze. She wasn't in the mood for any more chauvinism.

"I wanted to further my education," she replied stiffly.

"My employer, Lady Catherine Bourg doesn't think that women should go to University, she thinks that it is a waste of four years," he informed them, as Ella swallowed one of her chips. "She says that women should be taken care of completely by men, and only a very select few _really _have the intellect to go to University, her protégé Anne amongst that few," he continued.

"Ella is very smart, Billy," Charlotte pointed out.

"Oh I'm sure she is, but University just isn't meant for some girls. You would be been better off by going to a Finishing School to correct your behaviour instead," he said smugly. "You would have found a husband _much_ earlier if you had," he added.

"I'm not looking for a husband," Ella replied, as Billy frowned slightly.

"Of course you are, all women are looking for husbands if they aren't already married. And your Aunt told me that you were as well," he added.

"Well Billy, I don't want to get married, I like being single," Ella said pointedly, eating another chip decidedly.

"You can't be serious! What woman wants to be single?" he questioned.

"A woman who has had enough of men taking advantage of her," she replied, her tone hinted with sharpness.

"I know that you don't _really_ mean that, so we'll change the subject," Billy said brightly.

Ella groaned when he began another in-depth lecture on the front downstairs sitting parlour of Rosings Park.

Lunch lasted about an hour before they managed to part from Billy. Ella got on her moped and headed home, still exhausted from the events of the past few days. She had already showered that morning, but decided to soak in her seldom-used bathtub, it was large and deep, she dropped essence of her favourite bath oil in there and let it seep into her skin. When she bought the house she had to renovate the bathroom, the bathtub had a special feature in it which heated the water whenever it got cold, so she sat there until she was wrinkly before she got out, and wrapped herself in her bathrobe.

"Hey May, is Lye out?" Ella asked when she walked into the lounge room.

"Yeah, she said she was meeting someone, I don't know when she's getting back, but she said not to wait up for her," May replied, looking up from her book.

"Do you know if she's coming on Tuesday night?" she asked, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and taking a bite.

"Err… I think she has a date, and I don't think I should go either," May said suddenly.

"What? Why not?" Ella questioned incredulously.

"Well, I made an idiot of myself last night for starters!" May cried in response. "I saw the looks people were giving me. I know that I say stupid things, I can't help it! It isn't my fault – but it doesn't matter," she said bitterly.

"May, you're uncomfortable in crowds, that's okay! Tuesday night is more casual, we're going out for dinner and drinks and that," she assured her. "I mean, yeah, it's a party, but not _really_, and besides, I want you to meet some friends of mine," she said.

"Elle, you and I are very different," May said suddenly. "You're beautiful, you're clever and people _like_ you, it's different for me," she said. "Just like it's different for Lye and Jayne as well, you're all so… desired, but I'm not," she continued.

"May, I'm by _no_ means perfect," Ella started steadily.

"Of course you aren't! I _know_ that you aren't perfect, I know that you do stupid things just like I say stupid things, I know that you're eccentric and unfocused and irresponsible and untrusting, do you think anyone cares? No one cares, and not just because you're Canterbury Zimmerman, but because you're brilliant, and I'm just May," she said finally, breathing heavily.

"Feel better now you got that out?" Ella asked softly, as May nodded.

"Yeah," she replied. "I feel lighter," she added, as Ella smiled softly.

"Sometimes you _need_ to scream and kick and fight," she said, before she walked upstairs to her room.

**A/N: Yaaaay! This chapter isn't that long, I'm afraid, but at least it's out and its over :D I'm getting worried that Ella isn't 'real' enough, do any of you get that? Please tell me if you do, I want to improve :D**


	10. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

A/N: Okay, I really loved writing this chapter because I could write about May, and she's fast becoming my favourite character in this story, although that's not fair to the rest of them… (hugs all of the characters) I'm sorry guys

**A/N: Okay, I really loved writing this chapter because I could write about May, and she's fast becoming my favourite character in this story, although that's not fair to the rest of them… (hugs all of the characters) I'm sorry guys! **

**Disclaimer: Grrr I own nothing! That makes me angry at world…**

"This is _really_ fancy," May commented, practically whispering to Ella.

"May, this is just the elevator, we haven't even gotten to the restaurant yet," Ella replied laughingly a few days later as she stared outside of the elevator window at the city beneath them whilst they shot up into the sky.

"Yeah, but it's _so_ fancy!" she cried, as Denny chuckled.

"I agree, it's really posh," he said, putting his hands into his dress trouser pockets and following Ella's gaze into the cityscape.

"Do I look alright?" May asked nervously, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"You look stunning," she replied, as May gave a soft smile. Ella felt that May really _did _look very nice. She was wearing a white sheath dress with a pale pink strap around the middle to highlight her waist. Her makeup had been done again, light and flattering, and she was wearing the same pink ballet flats as the night before, she was comfortable in them and wasn't ready for heels.

Ella was wearing a pretty off the shoulder mini dress with long sleaves. It was done in a silvery-grey and clung to the right places and left plenty to the imagination; it was trimmed and hemmed with pale blue that brought her eyes out very nicely. There was a very thick blue sash around her middle that accentuated her waist very nicely, and made her breasts look smaller, which was actually what she wanted. She partnered the look with some blue peep toes and left her hair long and flowing down her spine.

"Do you think Lye will be upset that we didn't take her?" May asked curiously.

"Err… probably," Ella muttered. The elevator stopped and they walked out of the doors, into a plush and nicely decorated restaurant lobby. It was on the top floor or a very tall building in the centre of London and the whole floor had been hired out by the record company to celebrate the end of Kipling's World Tour. With sales from the last two albums adding up to twenty-five million, not to mention the EPs, Singles and downloads, the record company _Jules_ had something to be happy about with Kipling.

The man at the front desk let them into the restaurant immediately, May still looking around in awe. She wasn't used to being treated so kindly by _anyone_, let alone people who didn't know her.

The room was stunning. It was quite large, and had a very big table in the centre for all the guests, most of which were at the bar, or sitting on the comfortable lounges relaxing with a glass of wine.

"Ah, my peeps!" Ella cried out, as she took Denny and May over to the lounges, where everyone _The In Section_, and Charlotte sat with Tom, their producer, and Craig Mathews, the agent to both of the bands, and Paul Keen, their own minion in _Jules_. His only occupation at the company seemed to be looking after Kipling and The In Section, and they had grown close over the past few years.

She fell back on the couch comfortably between James and Charity, as Denny took his place on an armchair and May nervously sat on a two person love seat, next to Malcolm, whose attention was instantly focused on her.

"May, I want to introduce you to the band," she said to her cousin. "You know Denny and Charlotte, they're in Kipling with me, but these guys are all in The In Section, they're separate but the same as well," she explained. "Err, this is James Tatar, he plays the keyboards, and this is Charity Sheffield, she does the violin," she began, as James, with his bright blue hair and hazel eyes grinned and waved, and Charity, her extremely long blonde hair tied into a long plait behind her back. "Then there's Cayce, don't let the name fool you, he's as masculine as they come, he plays the guitar," she said, as Cayce Price smiled softly, his curly blonde hair sticking out everywhere. "Err… that's Morgan, and no, his hair isn't _really_ purple, but we all pretend it is," she said, as Morgan chuckled.

"I'm Malcolm du Croix," said Malcolm, before Ella could continue. Malcolm had reasonably long brown hair and eyes of the same shade, and a bit of a beard. He didn't normally talk that much, and he was very unusual, but he seemed quite interested in May. "I play the electric guitar and do some vocals, I'm in The In Section as well," he said, holding out his hand to shake May's. She unsteadily took his, swallowing nervously.

"Err… I'm May Gardiner," she said quietly, and slowly. "I – I like your last name," she blurted out, as Ella inwardly cringed, before Malcolm burst out laughing.

"I like your eyes," he replied, with a soft smile that caused May's lips to turn upwards. "And your smile," he continued, as a strong red blush rose to May's cheeks.

"Well, this is May, she's my cousin, she's studying to be a Doctor, we're about two weeks different in ages, I think," Ella introduced, smiling secretly. Malcolm still hadn't let go of May's hand.

After about a half hour, everyone had had a drink or two, and the guests had all arrived. The whole evening had a very relaxed attitude about it, or at least, that's what Ella thought – until the last guest walked into the room.

"Oh great," muttered Ella sharply when she saw Wilhelm Darcy walk in. She did _not_ want him to be there. Why was he even invited? Sure, there were a few people whom she had never met before, who seemed to have nothing to do with Kipling or The In Section, but _Darcy_? That was just crazy. He was wearing black trousers and a white Oxford shirt, once again unbuttoned at the top with a loose cravat, this time in grey silk that brought out his eyes, he completed the look with a black suit jacket, his hair falling over his collar.

"Darcy! Oh it's splendid to see you, I'm so glad you came along," came the loud, booming voice of William Lycos, the CEO of Jules Records. The heavy man was crossing the room, and slapped Darcy on the shoulder in some sort of familiar greeting. Ella inwardly cursed; she forgot that Darcy was with Jules Records.

"It was more of an order than a request, so I felt I had best comply," Darcy replied, as Mister Lycos laughed.

"Yes, yes, we're about to eat now, go and get yourself a drink and find a seat," he replied, waving Darcy away.

Darcy rolled his eyes and headed to the bar, getting a glass of red wine before he returned to the table. Ella looked over at May, she was sitting next to Malcolm, they were both chatting away to each other, May occasionally looked awkward and uncomfortable, but whenever she was Malcolm only laughed. He seemed enchanted by her.

"Now then young miss, you should sit next to Darcy here, I heard you two are close friends," Lycos said, placing a hand a little too low on Ella's back for her to be comfortable as he led her to the table, and practically deposited her in between Cayce and Darcy.

"Hi there boys," Ella greeted with as much cheer as she could. "Err… I didn't know you were going to come," she said awkwardly to Darcy, before sipping her glass of watermelon liqueur and lemonade.

"I was asked to come by Mister Lycos," he replied, a bit stiffly. "I hope you don't object," he added, with the slightest sarcasm, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Why would I care, it's a free country," she muttered, before the waiters filed into the room and began taking orders.

"Are you going to be offended if I eat anything with meat in it?" Darcy asked her, hesitating when the waiter approached him.

"Go for it, it's not like I'd rip it from your hands and throw it out the window – I'm French, not crazy," she replied, as Charlotte, who was opposite, laughed.

"Yes Ella, you _are_ crazy, you're a complete nutter," she commented, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"I prefer the term 'space cadet'," she replied, as everyone around started laughing.

Darcy ended up ordering a steak, and Ella vegetarian ravioli. She wasn't offended that he was eating a steak, but didn't he realise that he was putting a dead cow inside his stomach to stew around? She didn't like to force her vegetarianism on other people, but sometimes she just didn't get how they could do it.

"So apparently you're releasing a DVD soon," Darcy said conversationally to Ella, when they were all about halfway through their meals.

"Oh yeah, it's all this footage from concerts and interviews and stuff from when we were touring and recording," she replied. "I haven't seen it yet, but I think it's like a documentary, I'm not quite sure," she explained. "You're probably going to be sent a copy since you came tonight, but it'll probably bore you to tears," she added.

"Why would it bore me? I like your music," he replied, as she shrugged, and turned back to her meal. She didn't want to talk to him at all.

After dinner they all headed to the couches with drinks to toast the band. Ella looked around the room through the toast, May was sitting next to Malcolm again, and they were still talking eagerly. Ella smiled softly; Malcolm and May went really well together. She had never played matchmaker before, but her cousin seemed to be the happiest she had ever been. And Ella liked Malcolm, even though he was a little weird. He was about twenty-five years old and mostly lived in London, but he had grown up around the same area that Ella had. They met when they were young, but Malcolm moved away when he was nine years old to England. They still stayed in touch all that time, and Kipling was originally going to have Malcolm as a member, but he then met the rest of The In Section and wanted to be part of their band instead.

Ella leaned back in her armchair and let a long breath be released from her lips. She was enjoying the casual nature of the party. That was really all she wanted for a little while, to be calm. But, she thought, with a slight grin, within weeks she would probably be back to her lively 'wild child' self again, and would be staying up till three in the morning with Charlotte and Denny watching movies, going to clubs or even sitting in her place reading with the music turned up so loud she couldn't hear herself think.

"Are you tired?" came a familiar, crisp, questioning voice, an English accent lilted with Scottish. Ella didn't bother opening her eyes and only relaxed a little more. His voice did have a very soothing quality to it, after all.

"In a manner of speaking," she replied, as Darcy gave a slight chuckle.

"I could take you home, if you wanted," he offered.

"No don't, May and Malcolm are still getting to know each other," she replied.

"Actually, it looks more like they're eating each other's faces in the corner," he informed her.

"Then I'm glad my eyes are closed."

"It's quite a sight," he said conversationally.

"Pervert. That's my cousin and my guitarist you're talking about," she reminded him pointedly.

"Did you set them up?" he asked her curiously.

"Nope. To be honest I didn't know Malcolm was into girls. I just wanted May to come to dinner tonight, so she can get the hand of crowds and people," she answered.

"Not _everyone_ needs to be good in crowds," Darcy said uncomfortably, shifting a little. He personally hated crowds.

"I don't care if she's good, just so that she can meet new people and make new friends, like Malcolm," Ella replied. "Jayne used to be just like her as well, before she met Charlie," she added.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she never said much, she was always awkward, but Charlie gives her confidence," she explained. _Confidence that she has a fortune in the bag,_ thought Darcy to himself as he frowned with slight anger. He was so angry at Jayne for treating his best friend like that! Charlie deserved much more than _her_.

"How much have you drunk?" Darcy asked her.

"Err…. A glass of watermelon liqueur and lemonade or two," she replied. "Why? Not thinking of getting me drunk so I pass out at your house again?" she asked, but she wasn't sure why she asked it. "I know. You're scared of the dark, so you want another person in that big old house of yours to fend off the ghosts?" she asked teasingly.

Darcy's jaw tightened. It didn't sound like a bad possibility to him.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted anything, that's all," he defended. That wasn't quite true, he was going to ask if she wanted to go to a nice pub he liked down the road from his place, but he knew he couldn't. That was just stupid. She wasn't the kind of girl to go for a one night stand. And besides, he had decided that he was no longer interested in her.

"I'm fine," she replied, sitting up a bit and opening her eyes. She glanced over at the corner, it really _did_ look like May and Malcolm were eating each other's face. His hand was curled behind her head in her short dark hair, and her arms were around his neck.

"A bit… flamboyant," Darcy muttered, glancing over at the new couple. "I mean, May is young and doesn't know any better, but Malcolm is into his mid-twenties, he _should_ know better," he said, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"So you've never kissed a girl in public before," she stated, Darcy taking on an affronted look.

"Of course I haven't. It's impolite," he replied pointedly, as Ella made a small scoffing noise.

"And don't treat May like she's young and stupid, she's twenty-two and she's really clever," she argued.

"I had no such intentions of implying she was stupid, but like you said, she's twenty-two, she doesn't know everything, some things you can only learn by experience," he replied, as Ella scowled.

"And you're so high and mighty now that you're almost thirty-one," she argued. "So you've got nine years on May and I – wisdom is measured in thoughts, not in breaths, and in actions, not years," she quoted.

"Impressive, Socrates?" he asked her, folding his hands in his lap.

"Aristotle," she replied. "Socrates said that wisdom is knowing you know nothing," she added. "And Oscar Wilde said 'I am not young enough to know everything'," she continued.

"He also said that he had nothing to declare but his own genius, slightly presumptuous, I would venture," Darcy replied, with a smug twist of his beautiful lips.

"But he _was_ a genius – and you said yourself that it's not a crime to be proud of something if it's appropriate," she countered.

"He's not a genius," Darcy said simply, as Ella frowned pointedly.

"Excuse me – how is _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, _The Ballad of the Reading Goal_, and _The Happy Prince_ not works of genius? If he isn't genius then who could you possibly describe as a genius?" she questioned.

"_The Great Gatsby_ by F. Scott Fitzgerald is a work of genius," he replied, tapping his hand nervously on the arm of his chair.

"Okay, I can agree with that, but Oscar Wilde _is_ a genius," she retorted.

"He was a smug, aristocratic bastard who got his kicks from being as vile as he possibly could," Darcy snapped.

"And?"

"What do you mean 'and'?" Darcy questioned.

"His works and his personality are two things – his works are acts of genius, I never meant to say he was an angel," she responded.

"Ella, stop arguing!" Charity called over to her band-mate. "Honestly, I had to put up with your arguing the whole tour, no more!" she cried in an imitation of dramatic irritation. "And _you_ Mister Darcy – stop encouraging her!" she continued, before turning her gold head back to her conversation with Cayce.

"Who is that?" Darcy asked, with the slightest hint of distain in his voice.

"That's Charity, she plays violin in The In Section," Ella replied.

"A bit commanding, isn't she," he muttered, sitting back in his chair.

"She's also a very good violinist," Ella defended. "So she's bossy, she's quite a nice person."

"I'll take your word for that," Darcy replied, as Ella gave him a pointed glare, and then turned away to talk to Craig.

'_What's keeping you here_?' was the sudden, unexplainable thought that popped into Darcy's head as she started a conversation with her agent. Why was he still there in London? He had no pressing business there, most of the work for the company he could be doing by phone or the internet, normally at that time of year he was in Pemberley anyway, why was he even _in_ London?

He turned his head to Ella when he heard her carefree laughter, her beautiful face lightened up by a smile that could make a grown man weak at the knees. That was it! His only reason for staying in London was so he could be around Ella! She was his muse – she had inspired so much, but he knew that he couldn't touch.

He had to get away before he got too attached, or before Ella started to think she might have a chance with him. He didn't want to disappoint her, but he had to, it was his only choice. Under normal circumstances they would never have met, but now Charlie was marrying that gold digger Jayne…

_Charlie_. At first he had been telling himself that he was staying for Charlie's sake, but now he knew the truth, and he knew that Charlie's would-be marriage was based on a lie. He was so angry at Jayne for doing that to his friend, but it needed to be undone. It was final. Both Charlie _and_ Wilhelm himself needed to get out of London. To stay would mean both of their ruins.

Wilhelm was uneasy for the remainder of the evening. He tried to loosen up but it didn't help, he knew that he was never going to see Ella again and for some reason that made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach. He followed her with his eyes until it was time to leave, he wanted to memorise her by heart; he wanted to drink her in so that she could inspire him for years to come.

God, she was beautiful. Slender and petit, but her figure lacked nothing, she had curves that he wanted to memorise by touch, but he knew that he couldn't. If he touched her again, he might not be able to leave, he might not be able to tear himself away from her. Her curly brown hair, the colour of chocolate, it was so glossy that it practically shimmered in the light as she moved, and her eyes.

They were so dark from a distance, you couldn't even tell the colour until you were closer. And their colour confused him so! A dark blue-grey, it was light and dark at the same time, twinkling brightly and framed by coal lashes, paid compliment by perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

"You _could_ be a little more subtle about it, you know," came a voice from the chair next to him, as Wilhelm glanced over to see the purple headed man, Morgan.

"Subtle about _what_, might I ask?" he snapped in response, before looking over at Ella, who was looking out the window and talking to Charlotte across the room.

"You might as well have a signpost saying 'I want to shag you, Miss Canterbury'," he laughed, as Wilhelm scowled.

"I do not," he replied coolly.

"You do too, man! I saw you at the Brit Awards as well, _and_ I was at Jayne's engagement party, you couldn't stop looking at Ella, it was almost disgusting," he said cheerfully. "Although, you aren't the first one to fall in love with her, even Malcolm was obsessed with her when they first met – well, he was five when they met, but when he was about twenty and they met again he was fixated," he explained.

"I'm not in love with her – and you need to keep your voice down," hissed Wilhelm in return, glancing around to make sure no one had heard.

"You are _so_ in love with her," stated Morgan delightfully. "It's quite alright, I'm not going to tell her," he promised.

"I'm not in love with her, so there's nothing to tell," Wilhelm replied.

"Hmm… but you _like_ her," he pointed out.

"I'm attracted to her," Wilhelm admitted finally. "It's completely based on her personal intelligence, ability and yes, perhaps her appearance also plays a part," he explained. "But that is _it_, I'm not in love with her," he said firmly.

"Not _yet_, maybe," Morgan teased.

"Not _never_," snapped Wilhelm. "And regardless, it has nothing to do with you," he added, as Morgan took on an affronted expression.

"Of course it does! She's a very good friend of mine, and like a little sister to me," he replied. "She doesn't admit it, but she's really the little sister to everyone in the band, Kipling _and_ The In Section, we all look after her – and _you_ need to keep your fancy arse out of it," he said.

"Well I _am_, because I'm not sticking around in London, and I'll probably never meet Ella again, so you can go back to baby-sitting your little sister in peace," replied Wilhelm pointedly.

"Listen, normally I would let any guy go after Elle, unless he was a drug-dealer or something, but she's had a bad history with men like you and I don't want to watch her heart break again, I told you, she's like my sister, who would want to see their baby sister hurt beyond repair?" he asked, as something flashed behind Wilhelm's eyes.

"_Mister Darcy, I'm afraid we have bad news," the Doctor said gravely, as Wilhelm stood, his face pale and his expression filled with nervousness._

"_What's happened?" he asked quickly._

"_We have evidence to suggest that your sister was raped," the doctor began. "It was quite brutal. She'll never be able to bear children of her own, and it may be a number of years before she can physically engage in sexual intercourse," he continued, as Wilhelm fell back into his chair, his face loosing the little colour it had left. He ran a hand through his dark messy hair and sighed deeply._

"_She isn't even twenty-three yet. He – he _did_ that to her, he took pictures of it! How could he do that?" he questioned angrily, his fists clenching together tightly. "I'll kill that son of a bitch, I swear to God Almighty that I will rip him apart with my bare hands," he swore furiously._

"_Go to your sister. She needs her brother, she doesn't need a murderer," the doctor replied, before turning heel and walking away._

"I'm not going to hurt her, I'm not going to touch Ella Bennette," Wilhelm replied quietly, as Morgan narrowed his eyes.

"What do you even want from her?" he asked curiously. "Just sex? Is that it?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly.

"I want to know how her mind works, I want to open her up and pull her apart, then put everything back together and send her on her way," he answered simply.

"Hmm. Kinky," said Morgan cheekily, before standing up, leaving Wilhelm with just a scowl on his beautiful face. He was really getting too old for all of this.

A small, but unexpected and very pleasant kiss on the side of her cheek, one hand pressed lightly on her waist for just a split second longer than necessary, and a quiet 'it was a pleasure seeing you again' was all he gave to Ella when he left the restaurant that evening. He was sick of London and he was sick of women screwing everything up, he wanted to go back to Pemberley and forget about Ella Bennette. The only evidence he had of her was a seven minute song and tingly feeling in the bottom of his stomach. He would erase her from his life, and whilst he was at it – he would erase Jayne from Charlie's. He would _not_ be undone by just a slip of a thing.

**A/N: Aww, bye-bye Darcy! We will see you again, but not quite yet! Reviewers get… hmmm…. My everlasting love and affection?**


	11. What have I done?

A/N: WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**A/N: WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Exams are finished! Yay! More time for writing! WHOOOO! I think I went well, they were really easy actually, but science is evil (shakes fist at gods of science) maths was a breeze, I thankfully say, I was worried I might fail, but no! Now I only have my School Certificate exams left and then it's au revoir maths, science, geography! Yay! Haha, I'm excited :D I just got home from band rehearsal, we played all the celebratory songs we knew just for fun :D So I've got about three more chapters ready and waiting in my computer, I promise I'll upload them all, probably a chapter a day before I go on holiday :D**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the converse sneakers on my feet, the 'All The Lost Souls' shirt on my back and this laptop. Oh yeah, and my pants – but they're actually my sister Mia's so I don't really own them… hmm… Mia owner of good jeans. **

"Seriously Ella, if you fall neither May nor I will go and dig out your body," called Malcolm as Ella started to mount a tall, winding tree on the edge of a frosty pond, her curly hair falling out of her beanie and down her back.

"I'm not going to fall, Malcolm," she replied, rolling her eyes as she swung up to the next branch. May and Malcolm had been going out for almost two weeks and they were all going for a walk in a park on the outskirts of London.

"She's quite good at climbing trees," pointed out May, her hand held tightly in Malcolm's as they watched Ella grip her arms around the boughs.

"May, you shouldn't encourage her!" exclaimed Malcolm with shock, but May only laughed.

"It's impossible to _discourage_ her," she countered with a grin, before Malcolm pressed quick kiss to her lips.

"Ew. Please discontinue the cooties exchange," requested Ella, as she swung upside down from a very high branch.

"Get down and I'll stop exchanging cooties with your cousin, stay there and the scarfs are coming off," threatened Malcolm, as Ella took on an aghast expression.

"You mean exposed necks? That's partial nudity! My innocent mind can't comprehend such things!" she cried.

"Keep it up, and I might just take my parka off," Malcolm added smugly. In a matter of seconds Ella was standing on the ground again, dusting frost and dirt off her grey denim overalls and pink undershirt.

"May, you've made him sociable. I'll never forgive you for this," Ella said, as May rolled her dark eyes.

"Yeah right! If I bought you a cookie you'd forgive me for anything," May replied, as Malcolm gave a snort of laughter.

"Hmm. I'm very insulted," Ella replied snootily, before they all began laughing again. Life had calmed down and was good for all of them. Malcolm lived about twenty minutes away from May, who had gone back to her mother's house with the promise of spending many weekends and holidays with Ella, so they would see each other every day, if possible. Ella liked the calmness she now had, she enjoyed going out and seeing a movie or getting a cup of tea at her favourite café in peace, without the worries of parties and interviews and schedules. The only downside was that Billy Collins had taken to following her around, they had gone to dinner six times over two weeks and had lunch countless times; it was all excruciating but meant that Fran would stay off her back for a while.

Malcolm took Ella home on his way to take May out for dinner, condemning her to the backseat because she fiddled with the radio too much. It had been a pleasant day in London, there had been very little snow over the entire winter period, and now it was nothing more than frost. The sun had been out and the three had decided to enjoy it whilst they could, because May's holidays were almost up and she would be soon spending all her time studying or at classes. Malcolm complained that since she had been studying for almost six years she really shouldn't continue at college, but both Ella and May knew he was joking and teased him on that fact.

"Thanks for the lift," Ella said as she opened the car door for Malcolm's decidedly boring Volvo.

"Thanks for the entertainment," Malcolm replied with a quick grin. Ella poked her tongue out in return before he drove away, and she started up the path to her front door. She was startled to realise that her front door was unlocked – she _always_ remembered to lock it. It was a nice neighbourhood, but you couldn't just leave your doors open to the general public. She pushed it open with great hesitation, preparing herself for the worst. Her entertainment system, her vintage guitars, her stereo, she knew that those would be the first things to go.

"Jayne?" Ella questioned with confusion when she saw who was sitting on her couch.

"Hi," was the weak reply she received.

"Jayne, you look terrible!" Ella cried, throwing her bag down and rushing to her cousin. She did indeed look awful. She was wearing just some baggy grey pants and a sweater, her hair was tied back loosely, her curls spilling out in a crumpled mess, her skin was pale and blotchy and her eyes red-rimmed and watery. She held a handkerchief tightly in her hand, her whole body trembling with extreme emotion.

"I don't feel so wonderful, either," she replied, her voice wracked with the echoes of sobbing and choking tears.

"What happened? Do you want me to get some ice cream? A sad movie?" she asked quickly, taking Jayne's hands and holding them tightly in her own, her tone filled with concern.

"Ch – Charlie's left, Elle," Jayne managed to get out after hesitation.

"W – what?" Ella questioned, afraid she wasn't hearing correctly. Charlie _adored_ Jayne, as she him.

"He was acting funny over the past two weeks… like he didn't trust me, like he didn't want to talk to me," she began in explanation, her voice still weak, tears slipping from her eyes. "I didn't know what was wrong, so I decided to give him space, I thought that maybe he was having cold feet about the wedding, so I didn't press anything, I didn't want to frighten him off," she continued. "But… but this afternoon when I got back from a session with the magazine he was packing up his things – and I was so scared! I didn't know what was going on!" she cried.

"What happened? Did he tell you why?" Ella asked, not believing what she heard. It couldn't be true. Charlie and Jayne loved each other very much; they wouldn't just throw that away!

"He said – he said he wanted to go away for a little while, to get out of London, and he didn't want me to come with him – he didn't care if I stayed at the apartment, I could have it if I wanted, but he just didn't think that we should be getting married anymore," she managed to get out, before releasing a huge sob of grief. "What did I do?" she asked Ella tearfully, wrapping her arms around her neck and weeping into her shoulder. Ella patted Jayne comfortingly, soothing her hair and giving her quiet words of reassurance that neither of them believed.

"Have you spoken to anyone since?" Ella asked her softly.

"Caroline seemed thrilled. She hates me, she always did, but I was too blind to see it – she said that Charlie would be very happy, she would make sure that he found someone 'suitable'," she practically spat out.

"Jayne, it isn't right, you know it isn't, this is _not_ what was supposed to happen," Ella said firmly. "Something is wrong here and I smell a rat, Charlie would _not_ just leave you," she insisted, as Jayne gave a weak, bitter smile.

"Ella, you're probably one of the cleverest women I've ever met, but evidently, you've been proved wrong. Charlie doesn't love me, and I have to accept that," she said softly, brushing her tears away. "Is it okay if I stay here? I just didn't think I could stay in that apartment for another second without Charlie," she explained, as Ella nodded.

"Stay as long as you like," she replied. "Listen Jayne, it's going to be okay, you and Charlie were meant for each other, he's going to see that very soon, even _with_ that pathetic sister of his poisoning his mind," she said.

Jayne only gave another weak smile by way of return. Ella was fuming. Jayne had been hurt and she didn't think that Charlie was completely to blame.

She just couldn't understand why two people who loved each other so much would fall apart like that! She knew that Caroline had probably been trying to sabotage the relationship, but Charlie couldn't be completely innocent as well, why would he do or believe anything that Caroline said?

"Ella! Wake up!" Gee cried, waving a hand past Ella's face. She blinked, somewhat taken aback before she glanced back at him.

"Oh, sorry, I was somewhere else completely," she muttered, getting out of her thoughtful trance. "What were you saying?" she asked.

"I was just saying how like Darcy it is that he would run away to Pemberley with his tail between his legs," he replied with a smirk. Ella shifted a bit on her couch, and glanced at her Blackberry. No new messages. Jayne had gone to work that day, and Ella wasn't sure that she was up to it, so asked her to call whenever she felt the least bit sick. "Ella? You're doing it again," he said.

"Ah… but didn't Darcy go to Derbyshire to see his family?" she questioned curiously, as Gee frowned slightly.

"Maybe, but we saw each other the day before he left, and if looks can kill, the glare I gave him would have put him six feet under before he could even realise what was going on," Gee said with his cool, confident grin.

Ella almost rolled her eyes. As much as she disliked Darcy, she did note that he was very good at intimidating people, and Gee probably wouldn't stand a chance against him.

"What's troubling you, Elle?" Gee asked, when he realised he wasn't getting her full attention.

"Well, it's Jayne," she admitted.

"Oh yeah, your cousin the model," he replied, as she nodded, and stared over at her piano, whilst not really seeing it at all.

"I just don't get how Charlie could do that to her," she explained. "I mean – he _worshipped_ her from the very first moment they met," she continued.

"Elle, there isn't really much you can do, Charlie is in New York and Jayne is about to go on a modelling tour," Gee reminded her. "You can't fix something if it wants to stay broken, maybe it's just time you let them go their separate ways," he suggested.

"You don't get it Gee, Jayne and Charlie love each other, I don't think that it's Charlie's doing that they broke up," she explained. She sat back in the couch and breathed deeply, trying to clear her cluttered mind. She thought that maybe having a chat to Gee would make things a bit less confusing, she still didn't get what was going on between him and Darcy, but it didn't matter, Darcy had left London and she was never going to see him again.

"Ella, sometimes people break up and there's nothing you can do about it," Gee began. "It's no one's fault, you can't change it and you can't pressure it, I think you've gotten so used to things being in your control that this is bugging you especially," he said, as Ella sighed.

"An interesting argument, but you're wrong. I'm hardly ever in control and I like it, but Jayne has done _so_ much for me over the years, and it really hurts me to see her sad," she explained, giving another sigh, and leaning back, her head tilted forwards and her eyes closing.

"Stay _right_ like that," Gee demanded, before Ella heard a rustling.

"Gee? What's up?" she asked curiously, peeking one eyelid open and seeing Gee take out his camera. She almost laughed, but he sent her a 'just stay still' look so she complied out of humour. She heard a few clicks and tried not to laugh, normally she hated having her photo taken.

"Alright, strike a pose, do anything," Gee requested, as Ella rolled her eyes, and randomly stuck her hands out with a big cheesy grin. Gee laughed and took the picture. "Over by the piano, sing me a song," he continued, as Ella laughed and sat down on her piano stool, and hit a C chord.

"Gee…. Is weee-ird," she sung comically, as Gee laughed, and took the picture.

"Now grab a guitar and serenade me," he begged her, as she picked up her old acoustic Gibson from the beanbag. She hit an E minor.

"Gee… is cra-zee," she sung for the next line laughingly as he snapped up picture after picture. He got pictures of her in the kitchen, making a milkshake, her sitting on the piano playing solitaire, her lying on the couch and throwing a ball up in the air, her enveloped by the beanbag, her sliding down the banister on her staircase, her sitting at the top of the steps and him looking up at her from the bottom.

"Okay, show us the view out of your window," he said, as Ella stood by her large bedroom window and had her hands displaying it as if it were a prize on some quiz show. She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. "Alright, sit on the windowsill, and give me another cheesy grin," he asked of her. Ella felt a bit uneasy, and she sat down on the window seat instead, and gave a small smile, not cheesy, but awkward. Gee seemed not to notice. "Lye down on the bed," he practically demanded of her, his voice gripped with urgency.

"Gee, I'm not comfortable with this anymore," she told him.

"Elle, it'll make a great picture! Lye down and pull your top up a bit," he begged.

"Gee, what are you using these photos for?" she asked sharply.

"I'm not using them for anything, just a bit of fun," he replied. "It's not like I'm going to sell them to the media," he said, but Ella was still uneasy. "Come on Ella, it'll be fun, just lye down and take your top off," he insisted.

"_NO_," Ella said sharply. "I don't want to, and you _can't_ make me," she continued with fire in her eyes, but Gee only laughed.

"You look so cute when you're angry," he said smilingly. "Elle, we've taken heaps of pictures, silly and sad and funny and pretty, but we haven't taken a sexy picture," he tried to rationalise.

"I'm not a model, Gee, I'm a person, and you will _not_ make me do what I don't want to do," she practically spat out. "If you're going to act like this I want you out of my house, you were a nice person to chat to and I don't want to ruin that, but I will if I have to," she continued.

"Aw Elle, I didn't mean to, sometimes I come off a bit strong – I'm sorry," he apologised suddenly. "It's just – you look so pretty with your hair like that, and… well, I doubt your interested – I'm older than you, I mean, when I was your age you were only fifteen," he continued with shame.

"Gee, I haven't had the best history with men, and I've been hurt pretty badly, and there isn't a _chance_ I'm going to risk being hurt again – especially with a creep," she replied, as Gee sighed.

"I'm not a creep, I just like you, that's all," he muttered.

"Gee, don't do that again," she advised. "I still want you to leave, and don't call me – if I want to talk to you I'll ring, give me some time to work it out, okay?" she said, before stepping back.

"I understand perfectly" Gee said in a cool voice. "All the time you need," he added. Ella gave him a soft nod of a mutual agreement.

"I think you should probably go now," she said, as he nodded, and turned to the stairs.

"I'll see you later then," he said, as he headed down the staircase. He saw himself out, and Ella headed over to her couch, hugging a plushie pink 'Monster' doll to her chest that served as a pillow. She felt like pure crap. She had always been uneasy about Gee, but was she overacting? She didn't know how she felt anymore, it was all too confusing.

She picked up her phone to check the messages. There were none – but a reminder was coming up, Billy was going to pick her up in twenty minutes and take her out to some sort of afternoon tea in London. She had a quick shower and changed into some ratty jeans with several holes and a plain, light grey cardigan (that had once been Denny's but she never returned it) over a white singlet top with a naked angel on the front, her hair in a ponytail and almost no makeup.

"Ella, you need to change," Billy said in his nasally voice when she answered the door.

"I'm not changing Billy," she said firmly, as Billy sighed miserably.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked her, as she nodded, and grabbed her purse. She locked her house and checked her messages again; she wished Jayne could call just so she didn't have to spend time with Billy.

"You really need to get a Rosings phone – the new touch screens are fantastic," Billy informed her when she slid into the front seat of his giant black Jeep – she hated it because it was probably making a hole in the ozone layer wide enough for Australia to fit through, but she didn't complain, she had learnt early in the game to say as little as possible around Billy.

"I like having lots of buttons," Ella muttered, putting her Blackberry back into her purse. "And I like having a full QWERTY keyboard as well," she added.

"Then you want a Rosings CB650 Duo – it has a combined touch screen and QWERTY keyboard, as well as a six mega-pixel camera and a slide out speaker for music and hands free options," he recited as he started the Jeep. "_And_ it's got complete internet access and word processing, _and_ google earth, with street views, just in case you ever get lost," he continued.

"Billy, I'm sure you're a great asset to Rosings Mobiles," Ella said suddenly, as Billy beamed. "With you, they don't need to spend money on an advertising department," she added, as Billy gave a somewhat forced laugh.

"Always with the jokes, Ella," he responded. "It's good that you have a sense of humour, women need all they can get to recommend themselves," he commented, as Ella rolled her eyes.

The drive soon turned incredibly boring – Ella took to counting how many times Billy said either 'my wonderful employer' or 'I', and discovered that it was a tie between the two. The lecture soon went on to Rosings Park estate, and the 'humble apartment' that Billy had been given when he was promoted to Catherine Bourg's Personal Assistant. By the time they rolled up to the Tea Gardens she was ready to commit suicide, and was counting the ways in which she could do it.

_I could slam my head in the car door_, she thought as Billy parked the car. _Or I could put my head under the wheel of the car_, she added, as she slipped out of the passenger seat. _Hmm, I could stab myself with that Disabled Parking Only sign, or maybe if I ate enough of that dirt I would explode…_

Ella reluctantly followed Billy into the front entrance, he spoke to the man at the desk and they were led through to their table. It was a bit chilly, but that was ignored when they took their table on the patio, staring out over the grounds.

"So Ella, what will you have?" Billy asked when she was given a menu.

"I'll have a cup of Japanese Lime tea and a slice of the Sponge cake," she replied.

"I'll have the same then!" Billy said, grinning broadly, as the waitress cringed slightly. "Excuse me Ella, I'm going to the little boy's room," he declared, before getting up, and walking back into the main part of the restaurant.

"Don't do this to yourself," the waitress said suddenly, watching Billy leave. "I mean – ew! I'm sorry if he's your brother or your boyfriend or something – but _ew_!" she cried, as Ella sighed.

"Yeah, I know he's ew. My Aunt makes me go out with him, it's mostly just humouring, but today alone I've counted fifty-eight ways in which I could kill myself," she replied morbidly, as the waitress took her menu. "Now it's down to fifty-seven again," she said, looking at the menu with a strange longing.

"How could you kill yourself with a menu?" the waitress asked thoughtfully.

"Paper cuts. If I got enough I would eventually bleed out," she replied.

"Hey, has anyone told you that you look a lot like Canterbury Zimmerman?" the waitress commented, scribbling down the orders on a little notebook.

"Her name is on my passport too," she added teasingly, as the girl's eyes widened.

"_No_ way!" she cried, as Ella smiled softly, and nodded.

"Yes way," she replied. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Canterbury, what's your name?" she asked.

"Err – it's Louie," she stammered out, shaking her hand with no little amount of trembling. "What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously, as Ella shrugged.

"Even musicians like tea," she answered simply.

"But – why are you with _him_?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"I told you, it's not my fault, my Aunt makes me go out with him," she replied, glancing over at the doors to see if Billy had come back yet. "Oh look, salt and pepper shakers! That puts it back up to fifty-eight," she said with delight, as Louie shook her head, and laughed.

"You're weird," she declared, as Ella gave a modest grin.

"That's on my passport too," she replied.

"I had better get back to work, I wish I had my camera here!" cried Louie, as Ella pulled out her Blackberry.

"Stand next to me," she requested, as Louie beamed, and complied.

"Hey, how do I get a copy of the photo?" she asked curiously, after Ella had taken the photo and put her Blackberry back.

"I'll upload it to the Kipling myspace so you can show your friends," she replied, grinning cheekily as Louie beamed.

"Really? That would be awesome!" she cried. "Hey, he's been in there for a while," she commented.

"I hope so. The longer he stays in there the better," Ella replied. "Sit down a bit, if you get in trouble I'll talk to your boss," she said, pulling the chair out. They sat chatting for a while, it was a slow business day so there wasn't much call for Louie to be anywhere.

"Now I _really_ need to get back, it's been _so_ cool," she said later, when she saw Billy approach. She quickly disappeared back into the restaurant and Billy sat down opposite Ella.

"Having fun so far? It's a really nice place, this," Billy commented. "What a lovely garden, so pretty, but it's not as lovely as my wonderful employer's garden – Lady Catherine Bourg's garden at Rosings Park, that is," he added.

"But really, whose garden _can_ compare to hers, ever?" Ella questioned sarcastically, but Billy's sarcasm detector was completely shot.

"How true! My, Ella, we seem to have the same minds! A match made in heaven, I would say," he said cheerily, as Ella rolled her eyes and inspected the garden. She spied a thorny rose bush and put her count up to fifty-nine.

It took a few minutes of Billy's endless chatter before their tea and cake arrived, causing Ella add five more numbers to her count, she could smash the teacups over her head, she could stab herself with the tiny fork supplied, she could scoop her eyeballs out with the spoon and that would have to cause a fair bit of bleeding, she could eat the tray that the tea was brought on and get internal splinters or she could stab herself with the spout of the teapot. All of them were preferable to Billy's droning.

She was only half-listening to him at that point. Mostly she was going over the events of the past few days, Jayne and Charlie, Darcy and Gee, May and Malcolm, everything was happening so fast that she was quite confused.

"…my wonderful employer…" perhaps _she_ could ring Charlie to talk to him about Jayne, and give him a good kicking? "…a merger with Telstra…" she knew that it was a bad idea, she had found that sticking her nose into other people's business rarely worked out very well for either parties… "– she expects him to settle down with Anne very soon –" and what was going on with Gee? Why had he acted so strangely? She admitted that he was a bit creepy, and put her slightly off ease, but he was a great deal more friendly than Darcy, "…and her lovely children, she had them with a surrogate mother, did you know?" even if he _did_ creep her out. Darcy was the model of crisp, business-like perfection, whilst Gee was scrappy and funny and teasing, and yes, weird, "…her husband, Richard, he's a bit odd…" but she wasn't exactly the most normal person in the world either! "…and after all of that bother _last _year when she tried to reason with him…" but none of this solved the real problem, Jayne and Charlie. They were _meant_ for each other, she knew, but in another way they were doomed from the start, they were both too nice for it to be true… "…one of the oldest families in England, I do believe…" perhaps that had been it? They were sick of being so nice? "A very long and noble history, starting with Edward D'arcy, this was in Viking times, I believe…" No, they would never get tired of being nice to everyone. "…he will do very well for Anne, I think," maybe she should take Jayne to Marseille with her and May in the summer, that could clear her mind…

"…my wonderful employer, Lady Catherine, believes that no man in his thirties should be unmarried…" But would she be taking Malcolm as well? She knew that he could hardly bare to be parted with May, and would be very upset if he had to stay behind, "-my aim in visiting the Gardiner family of course –" but they _did_ say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all. "…select a wife out of the selection offered, my original choice being your cousin, Jayne…" But Malcolm was very tetchy when people tried to control him, she knew. They had spend four years together as children in Marseille, fishing and climbing trees and annoying the neighbours, four great, innocent years of childhood. "… you will have to quit this ridiculous musical career, it is very improper…" Maybe if she went back to France things would clear up, after all, now that Jayne's wedding was cancelled there was little to keep her in London, perhaps if she took Jayne with her to Paris and then to Marseille in the summer, where May and Malcolm would join them… "-but I feel that you will be very happy in Kent, and my humble apartment is very cosy…" should she call Gee? Would she be able to speak to him ever again? She wasn't sure – perhaps he was just awkward… "and so you need only to say yes to my proposal and we can be married within a month," Billy said finally, as Ella snapped into attention.

"I'm sorry, _what_?" she asked, her eyes widening as Billy slipped off his chair onto the ground. For a moment she thought he had fallen, but he was leaning on one knee, and pulling something out of his pocket. "Err – Billy –" she began, trying to spare him the embarrassment. "Huh?" she questioned, when he handed her a phone.

"You're going to need a _Rosings_ Phone now, Ella," he said with a cheesy grin.

_Most guys just give you a ring_, she thought, looking down at the sleek phone in silver and burgundy.

"I even got a ring to match it!" he cried, pulling out a little velvet box. Ella cringed at the ring; it was hideous; the best thing that could be said about it was that it _did_ match the phone. "I don't even need to hear your answer, I know you want to marry me, but I thought I would ask you for propriety's sake," he explained.

"Billy, I-" began Ella.

"It's okay, I know how you feel, don't worry, we can go to my hotel right after this," he said smugly, standing up and putting the ring on her finger. "I know we'll be very happy," he added, pressing the phone into her hand.

"Billy, _listen to me_," she ordered him sharply. "I am _not_ going to marry you," she said firmly, as a faint frown appeared on Billy's face, before he laughed.

"Ah, that sense of humour again! You're getting very good at making jokes, Ella," he commented. "Come on then, we should go tell your mother," he said.

"No Billy, I'm seriously _not_ marrying you," she informed him.

"Ella, you don't have to play hard to get, I understand perfectly, you can stop pretending," he said, tapping his oversized nose lightly.

"I'm as serious as you can get – I have no intention of marrying you, Billy," she replied.

"Ella, now it's just getting tedious," he said, placing his hands on his hips like an aggravated housewife.

"Do I have to spell it out to you?" she questioned with no small amount of frustration. "I'm _not_ interested, I will _not_ marry you, and I do _not_ want this ring, or this phone," she snapped, pushing them into his hands, well aware that they had an audience.

"But your Aunt told me –"

"I don't _care_ what she told you – she doesn't know me, if she did then she would know that I am _not_ interested in getting married, or even seeing anyone right now, so deflate that giant ego of yours and leave me _alone_!" she cried, tossing her head and walking out of the restaurant.

She felt good. She felt _really_ good. She felt so good that she wanted to celebrate.

So she went to China town and bought almost a whole new wardrobe filled with cute shirts and skirts and ridiculous accessories, she went to McDonalds and ate pretty much a whole bag of chips, _with_ a thick shake, she saw a movie and rented out several more before she returned to her apartment. Jayne was sitting in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee.

"You look pleased," she commented when Ella walked in, dragging behind her bags of clothes and DVDs.

"I feel pleased," Ella replied, dumping her new clothes in her lounge room and taking out the bag of movies.

"And why is Ella pleased?" Jayne asked curiously, leaning against the bench.

"Because Ella just told Billy to pretty much fuck off," she replied with a large grin.

"Err… did he deserve it?" Jayne asked cautiously, as Ella nodded and picked up her phone.

"He asked me to marry him, and he gave me a Rosings Phone," she explained, as she began dialling. "Hey Charlotte?" she asked, when the ringing stopped and someone picked up the phone.

"Oh, hi Elle," Charlotte replied. Her tone was… strange, like she was hiding something.

"Can you come over? I'm celebrating getting that creep Billy off my back for good, I rented a whole heap of movies and I'm going to order pizza," she informed her friend.

"Umm, that sounds great Ella, but I can't come," she replied. "I – I'm busy right now," she explained awkwardly.

"Oh – okay then, that's alright," Ella replied, her curiosity overpowering her disappointment. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I have a friend over," she replied.

"Do I know them? They could come over as well, if you want," she offered.

"No, they can't," she said quickly. "I've got to go, Elle, see you later," she added, before hanging up the phone.

"That was weird," commented Ella, before dialling the local Pizza place.

Charlotte felt terrible for lying to Ella, she felt sick to her stomach as she put the phone down.

"Come back to bed, baby," came a nasally voice from beneath the covers of her bed. Charlotte almost cringed. What had she done?

**A/N: Oooooooh, cliffie!! Yay! **

**Gally619 – I'm sorry, but it had to be done ******** But wait to see what Charlie does later on in the story, it makes up for everything, I promise ******

**Thank you all of my reviewers, I promise to answer any questions you have :D**


	12. Not another Charlotte

A/N: Hmm, muchly enjoying exam-free life… So I'm about to go off to the doctors, but I just wanted to post another chapter before I go

**A/N: Hmm, muchly enjoying exam-free life… So I'm about to go off to the doctors, but I just wanted to post another chapter before I go. I'm not going to any classes today at school (it's a really big school, they'll never find me) but my friends and I plan on sitting in the lawn all day with our music and our endless supplies of lollies, me with my laptop to get as many chapters as I can out before I head off on my holiday :D**

**For those who read and liked my two other stories, 'Epic Mind Failure' and 'I really hope this works', I'm updating soon, I'm going to start one really long one, which will have POVs of many different characters :D**

**Disclaimer: Yes, I am Jane Austen, come back to haunt you all from the dead! Whooooooooooooo! cough cough I wish…**

"I think I need to repaint my flat," Ella said thoughtfully, lying on her long white couch and staring at the walls. Jayne was lying opposite to her, she too turning her gaze to the walls.

"The paint is fine," Jayne said. "It's white. White is good," she said.

"But I want a feature wall," Ella said thoughtfully. "That one," she said, pointing forwards at the west wall, the one with her completely un-used fireplace and large TV, it was also the wall that her built in wardrobe was against.

"Well what kind of feature wall?" Jayne asked curiously, as Ella squinted, and tilted her head.

"I'm thinking wallpaper… in yellow and white, maybe pinstripes," she replied. "Yeah, nothing too noticeable, but still different," she commented. "I'm going to look up decorators," she said, sliding off the couch, and going over to her dining table/work desk where her laptop was sitting. She sat down and pulled it towards her, opening up google and doing a search whilst opening up a second tab, and clicking on hotmail in the address bar.

"Found anything yet?" Jayne asked from her place on the couch, as she sipped the last of her tea. "Can we eat something other than pizza or ramen tonight? You're going to kill me, you know," she added.

"Nothing much yet, and I don't feel like cooking. We can variate and get some Chinese food if you want," she offered, as Jayne rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to the store to get _real_ food," she said, standing up.

"Go to the Organic Grocers down the road – put it on my tab, Trent knows who you are," she said, her eyes not moving from the screen as she opened up her inbox. Hmm. She had a _lot_ of emails.

"I'll be back soon, I'm taking my car," Jayne said, kissing Ella's head before she pushed open the front door. Ella quickly sorted through her emails, most were just junk that she didn't need to read, so she deleted many. She checked back on her search and found a local redecorating and renovating service, and looked around her apartment thoughtfully. Yes, her couch was comfortable, but perhaps she _did_ need to put a guest room in there.

Where could she put it? She didn't want to use up any space from her backyard, there wasn't that much to begin with, but… she looked over at the corner behind her, and then looked up. That corner had a small, comfortable chair in it for reading, but that was it. It was the neglected corner of her house. She could easily put in another loft, and it would use up hardly any floor space. She smiled quietly, and wrote down the number from the website. Not only was she going to get a feature wall, but also another loft.

"I'm back!" Jayne called out a little while later as she pushed open the front door. "That organic grocer is really great, I got some really delicious looking apples," she added, walking over to the kitchen bench and putting down the bags. "Found anyone yet?" she asked, glancing over at her cousin.

"Yeah, this guy does redecoration and renovation – I want him to put in another loft, sort of a guest room," she replied.

"That sounds good," commented Jayne, taking out one of the apples. "What are you planning?" she questioned.

"Well, it would be in that corner over there," she gesture behind her, "and I want a spiral staircase and the side barriers to be higher than in mine, but essentially the same," she replied. "Oh, I got an email from Aunt Maddie and Uncle Eddie," she added.

"Oh really, what did they say?" Jayne asked curiously.

Madeline and Edvard Phillips were the nicest people anyone could hope to meet. Edvard, or Eddie as most people addressed him by, was Francesca Gardiner's brother, and half-brother of Jean-Baptiste Bennette, Ella's father. Jean-Baptiste had been the only child from the marriage of Maria Long and Jean-Claude Bennette, and Francesca and Edvard were the children from the second marriage of Maria Long to Christopher Phillips. Both Ella and Jayne knew the Phillips very well, they used to live in London before Eddie's business took off and he moved to America, complaining at the English weather was downright atrocious.

"Well Aunt Maddie is feeling a bit under the weather, she's seven months pregnant and Uncle Eddie is really busy with the business, she was wondering if either you or I would like to come stay with them in California to help Maddie around and look after Wendell and the twins," she explained. "I think you should go," Ella stated, as Jayne almost dropped her apple.

"Elle – Charlie is in California," she said warily, as Ella shrugged.

"It's a big place, you won't see him," she said. "And I kind of think that maybe you need this… a break, I mean," she explained. Jayne thoughtfully bit her apple and stared out the window. "It's okay if you don't want to, I can go, it's just that I'm seeing them anyway in the summer, after the baby is born and settled they're coming back to England for a little while, they want to tour the country, they're considering buying a house near to where Aunt Maddie grew up, and I sent an email back promising that I would come with them, Maddie asked be to, and then we're all going to Marseille for the rest of the summer," she explained.

"I _do_ miss Wendell and Alice and Sam," she commented, tapping her lips thoughtfully. "Send them back an email saying I'll be there as soon as I can," she said, as Ella grinned.

"I thought as much," she replied, turning back to her laptop.

"Should we celebrate again? We've already celebrated twice this week, I don't know if I can handle anymore," Jayne said.

"Hey, we had _very_ good reasons to celebrate!" Ella objected, as Jayne rolled her eyes.

"So you bought the entire box set of Doctor Who series one and two, and you found your favourite pair of jeans. Those aren't serious reasons," Jayne replied, as Ella scoffed.

"But _this_ is! This deserves a _real_ celebration, let's go out clubbing with May and Charlotte," she suggested, picking up her Blackberry. She rung up May first, who agreed to come (she had been very bored of studying, she informed them), before she called Charlotte.

"Hey Elle," Charlotte greeted, obviously checking caller ID.

"Hey Char, I was wondering if you wanted to come out tonight with Jayne, May and I," she replied, getting straight to the point.

"Err… I can't, not tonight," Charlotte replied, as Ella groaned.

"I haven't seen you in almost _three weeks_, Char!" Ella exclaimed miserably.

"I've been really busy," Charlotte defended. "It's not my fault, I don't have to go out with you every night Elle, I can have my own friends," she said pointedly, as Ella sighed.

"Alright, do you want to have lunch tomorrow?" she asked.

"I can do lunch, the café at twelve?" she suggested. Ella agreed, and they hung up.

"I'm going to have a shower and get ready, is Charlotte coming?" Jayne asked, walking past with a change of clothes.

"No, I don't know what's wrong with her! Suddenly she doesn't want to see me, I haven't seen her face to face since that thing with Billy, you know," she said with irritation, turning off her laptop, and sighing. "I'm having lunch with her tomorrow, I'll get the answers out of her then," she said, as Jayne nodded, and headed into the bathroom.

"Elle, I think I _luuuuuuuuuuurve_ Malcolm," May declared loudly, after taking a long drink from her Long Island Ice Tea. Ella laughed. Since May had been with Malcolm she had a whole new confidence and outlook on life, she was dressing nicely and putting on makeup, making new friends and she was even doing better at college.

"I'm sure you do, sweetie," she replied, patting her cousin's arm as she sipped her own watermelon liqueur and lemonade. The music was pumping loudly around them and the dance-floor was filled almost to the brim with people.

"No, I really, _really_ love him!" she cried loudly. Ella couldn't help but laugh. She pulled out her Blackberry and started a video message call with Malcolm.

"May, who do you love?" she asked patiently.

"Malcolm! I love him, isn't he cute? Mum thought I was a lesbian but I'm _not_, because I love Malcolm!" she cried happily. "And this! I love Long Island Ice Teas! Its not tea, is it? Nooooo, it's _not_!" she declared, as Ella stifled laughter. She turned the phone back to her so she could see Malcolm. He was obviously sitting on his couch, trying not to laugh.

"This is your doing, you know," she told him, as he started to chuckle.

"_Me_? You're the one who gave her the 'ice tea'," he objected, still laughing. "Where are you guys?" he asked her.

"Jupiter's," she replied, glancing back over at May. "Your girlfriend looks really hot, are you sure you don't want to come protect her from any hopeful gentlemen?" she asked, as Malcolm frowned slightly, nibbling on the bait. Ella turned the phone back around to point at May, who was sipping her drink with great enthusiasm, a tall brown headed man approaching her.

"Hi cutie," he greeted, leaning against the bar, and practically over the top of May.

"Hi not-so-cutie," she greeted, before she started giggling.

"Wanna dance?" the guy asked, as May blinked her dark eyes, not comprehending.

"With me?" she questioned dumbly, as the guy grinned and nodded.

"With you, or with your pretty little friend over there," he said, glancing over at Ella, who rolled her eyes.

"Err… nope! I love Malcolm, and Ella doesn't like boys anymore!" she declared. "Well, she _does_, but she's not dating them," she said thoughtfully. "No, no! This isn't coming out right," she muttered, as Ella turned the phone back around to face her.

"Alright, I'm convinced," said Malcolm, smiling. "Just keep my baby out of trouble till I get there," he requested. "And I'm truly crushed that you aren't into boys anymore, such a waste to mankind," he teased. Ella scowled pointedly before they exchanged their goodbyes and hung up. Ella looked over at May; obviously the brunette had given up.

"Oh, hey Jayne, Malcolm is coming in a minute," Ella said, greeting her cousin when she came back from the bathroom.

"Elle, listen, Gee is here, and I don't really think you should talk to him," Jayne hissed in a low voice.

"Gee? I haven't talked to him since that day at my place," she replied. "Does he know I'm here?" she questioned, as Jayne shrugged.

"He didn't see me, he's over at the bar," she explained.

"I don't care, I've decided that I don't want to talk to him, he creeps me out," Ella replied firmly. "We'll just ignore him, he probably won't want to talk to me anyway," she added. "Let's get May and dance, I'm sick of sitting still!" she declared, finishing the last of her drink and taking her two cousins over to the dance floor.

Malcolm turned up about a half-hour later, and May immediately jumped into his arms, the two sharing a kiss that would make Prince blush.

"I think I like this new May," Malcolm commented after their kiss broke. Ella and Jayne continued to dance with each other whilst Malcolm and May continued their half-dancing and half-making out session.

They headed over to the bar when they were all worn out later on, Malcolm only wanted lemonade because he was going to be driving home, but May ordered another Long Island iced tea and Ella got a watermelon liqueur, Jayne being safe with a fruity cocktail.

"Eeeeeeeeeeella!" came a call from behind, as Ella turned around to come face to face with Gee Wickham.

"Gee," she greeted stiffly, she was only just starting her second shot of liqueur so her grasp of speaking was much stronger.

"That's my name!" he said brightly, as the others turned around to look at him uneasily. "Howz you going, then?" he asked her cheerily. It was clear that he had been drinking a fair bit.

"Gee, maybe you should call a cab and go home," she suggested coolly, folding her arms against her chest.

"Maybe I should… go back to your place!" he suggested, winking very obviously at her. "Howzat sound cutie pie?"

"It sounds bad. I'm not interested," she said firmly.

"Aw shuddup Ellie, I know you like me," he said drunkenly, taking a step closer to her. "Come on… let's ditch this place!" he continued, wrapping an arm around her waist and roughly pulling her towards him.

"Let _go_!" Ella practically screamed, pulling against him, trying to knee him in the crotch but he was holding her so very tightly, his hands wrapped around her wrists with such a grip that it was almost excruciating. "Get _off_, you're hurting me!" she cried, pulling away.

Gee was on the floor before he knew what had happened.

"Jeez, I think his face was made from titanium," Malcolm commented, holding his bruised fist and wincing. "Ah…" he groaned, nursing it softly. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking over at Ella, who was straightening her dress.

"Yeah, thanks for that," she muttered, blushing profusely.

"Haven't had to do that for a while," Malcolm commented, with a soft, almost bitter smile. "You sure can pick them, huh," he added, as Ella shrugged.

"I really thought that… it doesn't matter," she muttered, running a hand through her curls. "Listen, May is completely gone and Jayne is tired, maybe we should all just head home before he wakes up," she suggested, glancing over at Gee. Malcolm nodded, and took his girlfriend by the hand.

"Are you okay?" Jayne asked quickly when Malcolm had left her side.

"Yeah, tops," Ella replied with a forced smile. "We're going home now though, I'll get a cab," she said, pulling on her jacket and putting her wallet in her pocket.

"Is she okay?" Jayne asked Malcolm, who nodded.

"Are you kidding? You know her as well as I do. This shocked, not upset, it'll take a lot more than this to upset our Ellie," he said, pulling May along behind him, who was singing 'All you need is Love' and looking at 'all the pretty little fireflies', which were actually the neon lights of the club. "How much has she had to drink?" Malcolm asked curiously, a hint of humour in his voice.

"Not much, actually," Jayne replied, trying not to laugh. "This is funny though – May? Would you like to tell Malcolm what you changed your name to?" she asked, as May turned to Jayne and beamed.

"Sunshine!" she cried happily. "My new name is Sunshine!" Malcolm laughed at her childlike nature.

"Just as long as there a du Croix at the end of it sweetheart, you can call yourself Potato for all I care," he said, giving May a quick kiss as he led her out of the club.

Ella was standing out on the side of the road, her arm held out; a taxi driving up beside her.

"I got one!" she cried triumphantly.

"I'm taking May home, I'll see you guys later," Malcolm said, leading his girlfriend out to the car park. Jayne climbed into the taxi with Ella, who gave the driver their address before they sped away into the night.

"Are you okay?" Jayne asked Ella softly, turning to look at her cousin, who was unusually quiet.

"Yeah," she replied with a soft smile. "I was just thinking of the last time Malcolm had to punch a guy to save me," she explained, her comforting grin fading. "I swore to him that I would never be in a situation where he would have to do that again," she added.

"Elle, it's not your fault, you told Gee to go away, you didn't want him there," Jayne said, trying to reassure her cousin.

"You can't rationalise any of this, Jayne," Ella said harshly, her voice quiet but still stressed.

"Ella, this is different now, it wasn't your fault," Jayne said calmly.

"And was it my fault when it was Jacques?" Ella cried desperately, edging away from Jayne, her skin pale. "He – he _hurt_ me Jayne, this is _no_ different now with Gee, it was the same story! It doesn't matter what happened, because it _is_ my fault! Everything that happened was _my_ fault!" she cried, as Jayne stared. Somehow Ella had pinned herself against the side of the cab, her face was pale, a tousle of hair falling down her cheek, her eyes were wide and had a hint of something in them that made Jayne want to hold her in her arms and hug all of the bad memories away.

"Elle," Jayne began steadily, her voice filled with calmness and soothing qualities, "Jacques was a _mistake_; you were nineteen! You didn't know!" she stressed.

"I should have seen the kind of man he was, I should have been able to tell!" Ella responded. "And I should have recognised those qualities in Gee, but I didn't," she said softly, her tone suggesting that she was incredibly disappointed in herself.

"Ella, Jacques took advantage of you, he manipulated you and the people that loved you; don't you think that maybe Gee did that too? A smile and a compliment here and there, kind words, he seems the type," Jayne commented.

"Jeez, I'm glad you consider me so vain as to fall for some pretty words and a cute smile, _so_ reassuring," she snapped, as Jayne sighed.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said patiently.

"I know you didn't," mumbled Ella, turning her gaze out the window. "Nothing has changed, has it?" she said softly.

"Everything his changed, Elle," Jayne replied.

"No, no it hasn't," she said, shaking her head quietly, her eyes running over objects speeding past the cab window. "I'm still a sixteen year old kid in the middle of Paris, I'm still the girl that ran away from her Aunt's family and I'm still the girl that nearly got herself killed, all thanks to pretty words and a cute smile," she whispered, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against the cool glass.

"In some ways, Elle, I suppose you are," Jayne said softly. "But mostly I would say that you're just Ella Bennette," she added, with a slight grin, as Ella gave a snort of laughter.

"Yeah, I guess so," she muttered with a smile, sliding back into her seat, and releasing a long breath of relief. It felt much better to be Ella.

"Jayne, I'm going out in a minute," Ella said to her darling cousin, who was still sleeping on the couch at half past eleven the next morning.

"Mm…" moaned Jayne. "Kay," she muttered, rolling over. Ella almost laughed. Jayne had such a low tolerance for alcohol it was just funny.

Ella shook her head in amusement and headed upstairs. She had just gotten out of her shower and was about to change to go see Charlotte. She pulled out one of the new shirts she had gotten from China town; it was very humorous; it had a frowning marshmallow on the front. She grabbed her pink converse sneakers and her jeans and pulled the ensemble on, partnering it with a baggy white cardigan, her hair in two pigtails over the front of her shoulders.

She slipped out of the house with as little noise as possible to give Jayne peace and slid onto her moped, whizzing down the road to the café. When she arrived Charlotte was already there, sitting in their favourite spot, sipping a cup of tea. Ella parked her moped and took off her helmet, wandering over to the table.

"I got you a drink," Charlotte said, gesturing to the red orange soft drink.

"Thanks," Ella replied, sitting down. Charlotte looked very drained and worn out, that was the first thing Ella noted.

"Are you hungry?" Charlotte asked her, as Ella nodded. "Well Josh will be around in a minute to get your order," she said. Ella nodded again. Something wasn't right.

"Err… so care to tell me why this is the first time I've seen you in three weeks?" she questioned.

"Err… I didn't want to tell you about it, I thought you might get upset," Charlotte explained awkwardly. "You see, I've been… seeing someone," she began, not meeting Ella's eyes.

"Really? Who is it?" she asked curiously, sipping her drink.

"Billy Collins," she replied, as Ella spat out the soft drink, thankfully missing Charlotte. She began coughing and spluttering for a few minutes, it was all terribly dramatic, and making Charlotte's face go as red as a tomato.

"_Why_?" Ella cried, when she could breathe again. "You _have_ to be shitting me," she said, but Charlotte shook her head. "Alright then, returning to my earlier question, _why_?" she asked.

"I'm almost thirty, Elle," Charlotte began. "I'm sick and tired of being the 'ugly friend' and the pity date, I never wanted a Prince charming, but I always thought that by now I would be settled down and have children," she explained. "Billy likes me. He can give me security, he can give me a baby," she said.

"Char, he's – well, you know!" Ella cried.

"And that is why I've agreed to marry him," Charlotte continued, as Ella's jaw dropped.

"Now you really _are_ shitting me," she said blankly, but Charlotte once more shook her head.

"Elle, I'm sorry, but he can give me what I want, Kipling can't," she said patiently. "Billy has asked me to leave Kipling, and I… I think I'm going to do it," she said softly.

"You're breaking up the band because _you_ want a kid with some slime-ball who doesn't even deserve to be called human?" Ella exclaimed. "I can't believe you would to that!" she cried, as Charlotte hung her head.

"He may be my last chance of having a happy life, Elle," Charlotte said pleadingly.

"It _won't_ be happy! You'll be lying to Billy, to yourself, and if you _do_ have a baby you'll be lying to it! How can you destroy the entire sanctity of marriage like that?" she cried. Charlotte was almost crying when Ella stood up and started going on in French, she couldn't pick up any of it, but she knew that Ella was upset and betrayed.

"Ella, I want you to understand this, understand why I'm doing this," Charlotte begged. Ella was still speaking in French, when she was upset she lost control over her language skills and never could speak in English. "And I'm not breaking up Kipling, I'm leaving, you can find another cellist," she said, her glassy eyes turning watery. Ella took a long, deep breath.

"But not another Charlotte," she managed to get out, before giving her friend one last pained expression and walking away. Whatever friendship they had, Kipling, the love and trust they had for each other was disappearing. Ella fought back tears as she slid onto her moped. Things weren't going so well, after all.

**A/N: In the movies and the book, Charlotte was angry with Elizabeth, but in this one I'm turning it around a bit. Do you get the feeling that Ella is a bit of a 'oh no woe to me' kind of character? I'm trying not to make her like that, I want her to be resilient as a result of her past experiences, but she has to get over the hurt of them first. Tell me if you don't like Ella, and I'll try my best to make her better, I promise :D**


	13. I'm sorry

A/N: Kaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy

**A/N: Kaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy! SO I got back from my holiday, I didn't do any writing up there because the beach was great, but I have this chapter and I've really been working out the plotline, I'm happy with where it's going now :D I think I want to develop this story a bit more before I continue with any of my other stories, maybe after a few more chapters I'll start posting some more things along the lines of 'Epic Mind Failure' and 'I really hope this works'. Thank you muchly for reading this far!**

"Ella's phone, Jayne speaking," was the instantaneous greeting given by Jayne when she picked up Ella's home phone after the third ring.

"Jayne? It's… it's Charlotte," was the muttered, tentative reply.

"Oh," Jayne responded. "Umm, how are you?" Jayne asked, her good manners and kind heart at battle with her loyalty for her cousin.

"I feel pretty horrid, actually," Charlotte replied. "I suppose you know about what happened," she stated.

"Ella told me," said Jayne, leaning against the kitchen bench.

"How did Ella take it when she got back?" Charlotte asked awkwardly.

"She was upset," Jayne stated, before sighing. "I couldn't get a word in before my mother called her, she basically accused her of being every horrible thing under the sun, then she hung up and started yelling and muttering, rearranging things and throwing other things across the room, she played her piano for a little while, and then took her guitar and a bag and just… left," she explained. "She should get back soon. She used to do this all the time when she was a kid," she added.

"So she's taking it pretty badly," Charlotte stated, with a sigh. "I've called everyone else from Kipling and The In Section. I don't think we're going to be best friends for a while," she said, trying to reach a light-hearted tone, but failing dismally. "But – it's _my_ life, you know? I should be able to do what I want," she said, as Jayne sighed.

"But you're breaking up Kipling to be with a man you don't love for some of the most superficial reasons on earth," Jayne stated. After spending so much concentrated time with Ella she was beginning to understand the way in which her mind worked.

"I want a baby, Jayne, I want one really badly," Charlotte said exasperatingly.

"I'm not saying you can't have children, you're not exactly old and grey, Charlotte," Jayne said patiently. "But I think what hurts Ella the most is what you're doing to get one. She could never be with someone she didn't love, and she knows you're lying, that's what kills her, the lies and the deceit and the betrayal, to her, to Kipling, and to yourself," she said firmly. "And no matter what you do, if you leave Billy now and never see him again, she will _never_ be able to look at you the same way," she continued, her voice growing weaker with emotion.

"You just don't see it!" Charlotte cried.

"I see it, Charlotte. Maybe you don't," Jayne said softly, before hanging up. It was painful for her to be so cruel, but she had to, for Ella _and_ for Charlotte's sake. She sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair. She was tired.

Ella didn't get back in till quite late. She still had her guitar nestled safely in its case by her side, and her backpack was swinging gently from her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Jayne asked, peering up from her couch bed when she heard Ella enter.

"I suppose," she replied wearily, putting down her bag and her guitar and heading upstairs. "I'll see you in the morning," she finished, disappearing from view. Jayne lowered herself back onto her bed. There was nothing she could do, so she left it. Ella had a way of bouncing back. She would wait until her cousin was calm again before they talked… even if that meant weeks.

Over the next few days, Jayne's concern for her cousin grew, buzzing in the back of her head. Ella would come in late and leave early in the morning, sometimes taking her guitar and sometimes just taking her bag and a bottle of juice. Under normal circumstances, or as normal as they could be, Jayne would have ignored Ella's behaviour and let her work her frustrations out, but after two weeks she knew that things were getting out of hand. Jayne waited up one night for her cousin, fully prepared for a battle.

Ella got in that night at around half past eleven, comparatively early to the bedtimes she had been setting for herself. She put down her guitar case and bag when she entered, and taking off her coat.

"Oh – didn't see you there," she commented when she spotted Jayne sitting on the couch, a determined look about her beautiful features. "I'm knackered, I think I'll turn in," she said with as much cheer as she could, heading over to the stairs.

"Don't think so, Ella," Jayne said in a commanding tone. Ella spun around quickly. Jayne had spoken to her with a tone like that since they were teenagers, and Ella had gotten up to _more_ trouble.

"Jayne, I'm tired," Ella said calmly, as Jayne took a deep breath.

"Sit down Ella. You haven't had a mother for quite a long time and I don't want to pretend to be one, but right now you need to listen to me and you _will_ do as I say," she said steadily. A flicker of a smile passed over Ella's face, before it was gone again, replaced with a stubborn tilt of the chin.

"And there was me thinking that obedience was something I had given up a long time ago," she said coolly, but nevertheless, she sat down on the couch, slipped off her tennis shoes and slid her legs underneath her. "I think that the English say it as 'shoot'," she continued, as Jayne took another deep breath.

"I know that this business with Charlotte has been messy," Jayne began, as Ella snorted sarcastically.

"How pretty you make it sound," she replied in an equal tone, but Jayne pressed on.

"And I know that she's being really stupid, but so are you, hun," she said, as Ella's eyes flashed coolly. "Charlotte wants to do this, even though her reasons are pretty –"

"Pathetic,"

"- _unreasonable_," Jayne said firmly, "it doesn't mean that you should ignore her and the rest of the universe whilst you wrap yourself up in your creative little cocoon," she explained. "I mean, _yes_, she doesn't love Billy, and she's quitting the band to be with him even though he's a bit… well, I'm sure he's nice enough… but she's doing this for her own reasons, and you should be the last person in the world to be judging her about doing what you think is right for you," she continued, as Ella gave a slow nod.

"But she's still torn Kipling apart, we _need_ a cellist, and she was my best friend," Ella objected. "I just can't believe she's lying to herself like this! She doesn't love him at all! You _can't_ love that – that – that _toad_!" she cried.

"Do you hate her?" Jayne asked suddenly, as Ella turned her gaze towards her cousin with a frown.

"Of course I don't hate her," she replied. "I hate what she's doing, and what she's about to put herself through, but I don't hate her," she explained, leaning back on the couch and sighing.

"A lot of people would be sitting at home all day, crying into their tea if they were you," Jayne pointed out, as Ella snorted in laughter again.

"A lot of people like _The Notebook_ and long walks on the beach," she replied. "I just don't get _why_ she's doing this, it's not like she's never going to meet anyone better than Billy," she continued with exasperation. "It's so stupid! She's throwing her life away when he means _nothing_ to her! All she wants is a baby! Why would she want one anyway? They scream and cry and keep you up at night, she's going to live a complete lie!" she cried, running a hand through her hair. "I'm losing one of my best friends, and I'm losing Kipling too, everything that matters to me!" she said finally.

"Ella, Malcolm and Denny are really worried about you," Jayne said softly. "They know all about Charlotte, and they want you to know that Kipling isn't going to break up, May plays the cello, and she wants to be a part of Kipling," she said.

"May plays the double bass," Ella frowned.

"She's been learning the cello for two years," Jayne replied, but Ella only shook her head.

"She's still studying to be a doctor, she's got one semester left before she's finished her pre-med," she said. "We can't take that away from her."

"Elle, May wants to finish her pre-med and then take some time off, she isn't sure if she still wants to be a doctor, and what line of medicine she wants to get into," Jayne explained. "You aren't going to start recording for a while yet, and then you probably won't tour until next year at the earliest, besides, there's always correspondence, and she can come back to college whenever she wants," she continued, noting the thoughtful look on Ella's face. "And what's more, she _wants_ to do it," she added, as Ella sighed.

"I admit, it sounds good," she replied, smiling softly. "Malcolm will be thrilled," she added. "But Charity will hate it, she still wants to be the only girl in Kipling or The In Section," she muttered, as Jayne laughed.

"I think May would really like to do this, Elle," she said comfortingly, squeezing her shoulder.

"I'll have a chat to her then, we'll see if we can make arrangements," she said finally, pulling her knees up to her chin and wrapping her slender arms around her legs. "But – it's not going to bring Charlotte back, and I don't know how I'm going to tell Charlotte that she's being replaced," she added, a slight frown appearing on her face.

"Don't worry about Charlotte. You two need some time, but I think that things will be alright between you two," she said confidently. "So, what have you been doing these days? You disappear without a word, I haven't been able to talk to you for two weeks," Jayne said, as Ella gave a quick grin.

"Oh, this and that," she replied casually. Jayne could recognise her attempts to end that topic of discussion, so she didn't press.

"Have you written some new things?" she asked, as Ella nodded. "Well… can I hear them?" she requested carefully. "What are they about?" she questioned.

"One is about Charlotte, and one is about… Jacques," she muttered. "I've done a few others, but those are the only ones I finished," she explained, slightly awkwardly.

"I want you to play them for me," Jayne said firmly, as Ella gave a soft, airy laugh.

"Err – they suck, but alright," she muttered, standing up, and getting her guitar from beside the door. She returned to the couch, and looked thoughtful. "Give me a minute, the first one is in French, so I need to translate it first," she said, as she began mouthing lyrics softly to herself.

"Ready?" Jayne asked when Ella gripped the guitar.

"Yes," she replied, taking a deep breath. "It might not make much sense, it's directly translated, and it doesn't even make much sense in French, but… yes…" she trailed off, before she began to play.

"_Did you find what you were looking for,_

_In room thirteen on the sixteenth floor?_

_Did it all become suddenly clear to you?_

_Did you find what you were hoping for,_

_In the silence between his snores?_

_Did you find it there at three AM?_

_Here's a new dress, do you fit it?_

_Did you find it, oh you didn't?_

_Well I'm so sorry, _

_So sorry,_

_I'm so terribly, terribly sorry,_

_I'm so sorry,_

_So sorry,_

_I'm so terribly, terribly sorry,_

_I'm so…_

_Did you find what you were looking for,_

_Looking out on a rural floor?_

_Don't you k now these streets are so romantic,_

_In the rain?_

_Do you find these European handball players beautiful?_

_I can't help it; I'm not the same as you_

_I held a candle, and you lit it_

_Did you find it, oh you didn't?_

_Well I'm so sorry, _

_So sorry,_

_I'm so terribly, terribly sorry,_

_I'm so sorry,_

_So sorry,_

_I'm so terribly, terribly sorry,_

_I'm so sorry_

_Did you find what you were looking for?_

_Well I just don't care anymore_

_It's a free world, go out and be in awe_

_Here's a new dress, do you fit it?_

_Did you find it, oh you didn't?_

_Well I'm so sorry, _

_So sorry,_

_I'm so terribly, terribly sorry,_

_I'm so sorry,_

_So sorry,_

_I'm so terribly, terribly sorry,_

_You're so sorry_

_I'm so sorry,_

_I'm so sorry_."

Jayne didn't know whether to laugh or cry. In it's own way, it was funny, but it was also Ella's way of saying what a horrible position they were all in.

"I liked it a lot," she said comfortingly. "So, what was the other one you mentioned? About Jacques?" she asked, as Ella took a deep breath.

"It's called Nineteen," she replied quietly.

"_I felt you in my legs  
Before I even met you  
And when I laid beside you  
For the first time  
I told you_

_  
I feel you in my heart,  
And I don't even know you  
Now we're saying  
Bye, bye, bye  
Now we're saying  
Bye, bye, bye_

_  
I was nineteen  
Calling…_

_I felt you in my life  
Before I ever thought to  
Felt the need to lay down  
Beside you  
And tell you  
I feel you in my heart,  
And I don't even know you  
And now we're saying  
Bye, bye, bye  
Now we're saying  
Bye, bye, bye  
_

_I was nineteen_

_Calling_

_I was nineteen_

_Calling_

_Flew home,  
Back to where we met  
Stayed inside  
I was so upset  
Cooked up a plan,  
So good except  
I was all alone  
You were all I had  
Love you?  
You were all mine  
Love me?  
I was yours right?  
Wasn't yours, right_

_I was nineteen,_

_Calling_

_I was nineteen,_

_Calling_,"

She finished the song, and Jayne very nearly _did_ cry.

"It wasn't everything that I wanted to say to him, but I've written so many songs about how angry I was and how hurt that I never really did realise that I loved him," Ella explained. "I mean, 'I thought you were God' was the only song I wrote that said anything close to what I'm saying now, that I was young and stupid, but this one says that… I wanted to be with him when I was nineteen," she continued.

"But it leaves room for anyone objective to realise that you made a mistake, and that he took advantage of you," Jayne said slowly, as Ella nodded quietly. Jayne leant forwards and sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair. "I don't really know what to say, Elle," she muttered quietly, as Ella shrugged.

"Don't say anything. None of it was your fault, I slipped of the tracks a little, it's not like I'm damaged goods or anything; it's over now. I think that this is the last song about Jacques that I'm going to write," she finished, with a breath of relief. Jayne pulled her head up a minute or two later, her eyes were red-rimmed but she looked like she too was relieved.

"Three years later," she laughed, with only the slightest hint of bitterness and sadness. "I'm falling apart at the seams with Charlie, but you've been through so much more and its like – you just grin and bear it all, it's almost like none of it bothered you," she said quietly, as Ella only shrugged. "I wish I had your resiliency," she muttered with a soft chuckle, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"I doubt it, the resiliency comes with the stubbornness, and the blind stupidity," she replied lightly, with a smile. "I've arranged to have the renovations and the redecorating started at the end of next month," she said conversationally.

"I've been meaning to tell you, I'm leaving for California in three days," Jayne said, as Ella's eyes widened slightly.

"Wow, I've really been off the planet, I forgot all about Aunt Maddie and Uncle Eddie," she muttered. "How long?" she asked, as Jayne shrugged.

"Until after the baby is born, at least, I think I may stay a few months to help out, and my manager has arranged for some work in California as well, so I don't end up penniless," she joked. "I think I may get a new apartment when I come back, I can't live in the old one," she added, as Ella nodded.

"When you get back the renovation should be done, you could move in if you want," she offered, but Jayne only shook her head.

"Sorry cuz, but I've known you long enough to realise that you fly solo, and besides, I'm sick of you getting up at three AM and playing piano!" Jayne replied, as Ella laughed, with no amount of offence in her tone.

"I feel creative then," she defended herself, the laughter not dead in her eyes. "But I get it. I understand that whole 'dancing to a different beat' thing that I've been labelled with, doesn't bother me," she replied, shrugging her lithe shoulders, and rubbing the back of her neck. "I think I'm going to go to bed, tomorrow we can do a bit of shopping for you and California," she suggested, as Jayne nodded, and kissed her forehead.

"It's good to have you back on the planet, Elle," she said jokingly. Ella rolled her eyes and put down her guitar, heading upstairs with a wave of the hand and a 'goodnight cuz'. Jayne breathed in an out for a few minutes, clearing her head. She shivered slightly. She was quite certain that if she hadn't spoken to Ella before she left for California, she would return to her pre-Jacques post-Fran self again, something that she didn't want at all. Ella had done a lot of growing up in the past three years, and she didn't want that to be completely undone because of Charlotte's foolish choices. She ran a hand through her hair and stood. She had been just in time.

**A/N: So, did you like it? I want to keep hearing feedback, I love your ideas and your criticism, it all helps make the story better, so comment away!**


	14. Michelangelo

A/N: Hello again

**A/N: Hello again! Just another chapter to make you happy, I promise we see Darcy real soon, I managed to get this **_**whole**_** chapter out between the time when I last posted and last night, because I love you all **_**so**_** much :D I want to be posting a new chapter, preferably about four thousands words every second day, and then I want to start putting up some more one-shots :D The two songs used in the last chapter were 'Sorry' by Youth Group and 'Nineteen' by Tegan and Sara, just thought I'd mention it, because I forgot to in my last author's note**

**Disclaimer: I own Michelangelo (the dog, not the genius), and to a degree I own May, because May is based on my fried Rochelle, but pretty much everything else I just 'borrowed'…**

Jayne had a nice send-off at the airport three days after Ella had returned to a normal schedule. They hadn't had much time to spend together, as Craig, Ella's manager, had packed her days solid with interviews. Many were solo ones, but most were introducing the public to 'Mayumi Eden', May's chosen alias.

"I know that _my_ name is weird, but yours takes the cake, May," Ella had commented when she announced the title she was going to go under.

"Mayumi is the Japanese variation of May," she replied, shrugging. "And Eden was easy, Gardiner, Garden, the Garden of Eden, see?" she explained, as Ella nodded in realisation. She actually thought it quite fitting.

But everyone had taken time out of their schedules to see Jayne off. Malcolm had driven May, Ella and Jayne to the airport in his Volvo, and when they had gotten out, Denny and the rest of The In Section, along with Lye, Fran, and several of Jayne's friends, even Charlotte were waiting in the airport terminal, with balloons. It was tearful and funny at the same time, a great deal of hugging ensured, but Jayne had to check her bags and get on the plane eventually.

"So. It's going to be a long flight," Ella commented when Jayne finally broke away. Ella was helping her with her bags, pulling them along behind her.

"Well, after a few hours we'll stop in Germany, I'm going to meet Dad at the airport and have a quick lunch before I go to California," she replied, turning to face Ella. "I want you to take care of yourself," she said firmly. "I mean it, I want you to be safe," she continued, as Ella smiled softly.

"Jayne, I lived in Paris alone for two years when I was sixteen years old, I've hitchhiked from Montmarte to the Riviera, I've backpacked through the Middle East and I've somehow come through all of that alive; if I can't dial for pizza and shower everyday then my name isn't Canterbury Zimmerman," she said with a grin.

"But it isn't, it's Ella-Rosé Bennette," Jayne objected, as Ella rolled her blue-grey eyes.

"You know what I mean," she said, as Jayne chuckled.

"Yeah, I just worry, that's all," she replied softly.

"Jayne – you're a _very_ special person, have a safe flight, give my love to Uncle Michael, and _please_, I beg of you, smile once in a while," Ella said firmly, as Jayne's lips curved upwards, seemingly unwillingly.

"I will Elle," she replied, hugging her briefly, and taking the back Ella held. They bid each other goodbye and Jayne walked through the gates, and away from Ella. She sighed. It would be months before they saw each other again.

Ella walked back to the others. Most were leaving, Fran Gardiner in a tearful commotion, Lye strolling behind her with a bored expression, Jayne's modelling friends were getting a taxi and most members of The In Section had already left, but Ella's attention was captured by one individual. Charlotte stood a few feet before her, with a guilty, slightly pained expression upon her face. She looked tired.

"Hey," Charlotte greeted, walking up to Ella.

"Hey yourself," Ella replied, putting her hands in the pockets of her orange hoodie, shuffling her converse-clad feet.

"I wanted to talk to you," Charlotte began, as Ella glanced over her shoulder.

"Not here, there are reporters everywhere, most of them aren't even bothering to be subtle anymore," she replied, glancing at a man in a dark jumper with a camera edging towards them.

"I brought my car, should we go to the café?" Charlotte asked, as Ella nodded, glancing outside.

"It's pouring out there. We'll have to get a spot inside," she pointed out, as Charlotte nodded, following her gaze.

"That's quite alright," Charlotte replied simply. They stood for a few seconds, neither saying anything, before they simultaneously began to walk to the exit. They didn't talk much on the trip to the café, but it was a very short drive and neither had anything much to discuss.

They got indoors quickly, only slightly damp from the rain, and each took a seat on one of the comfortable red armchairs in a back corner. Ella ordered a cup of tea and Charlotte some coffee, and they settled into silence.

"I saw you on that chat show last night with May and Denny," Charlotte said as they waited for their drinks to arrive.

"Yeah… It was May's first televised interview, I think she did really well," Ella replied, inspecting her nails. Her bright purple nail-polish was chipping slightly, and the stickers she had put on them had all but disintegrated.

"I was very impressed. This 'Mayumi Eden' is a very interesting and polite young girl," Charlotte replied, with a small grin. "I wasn't aware she played the cello, however," she added, as Ella nodded.

"I wasn't either, but she's been learning. She's quite good, actually," Ella responded.

"I thought that you might… well, it doesn't matter," Charlotte muttered, averting her gaze. She accepted her coffee and passed Ella her tea, sipping quietly. "Whatever happened with that Gee Wickham? I heard Billy mention that he hasn't got the best reputation," she said conversationally.

"He… well, he wasn't who I thought he was, that's all," Ella replied, sipping her tea. "I don't talk to him now. I don't hate him, I just feel sorry for him, you know? He's a bit weird, but he hasn't had an easy life," she explained, as Charlotte nodded.

"Oh well, I thought maybe Billy and I could invite him to the wedding, he'd look great in a tux," she said casually.

"Err, have you started planning it?" Ella asked curiously.

"Started planning? I've almost finished, Elle," Charlotte replied. "I've always had plans for my wedding, I just had to make the calls, it's in two weeks," she answered, as Ella's eyes widened in shock.

"T – two weeks? That's _really_ not very far away," Ella practically gasped, as Charlotte shrugged.

"Billy wants to get married quickly, and so do I," she explained. "We're going to spend a week in Scotland before we go to Kent, that's where Lady Catherine Bough lives, you see, and she very graciously gave Billy a penthouse close by, so he can be around whenever her Ladyship calls on him," she continued, sipping her coffee again. Ella almost frowned. Charlotte wasn't a very attractive woman, she had a niceness about her face and her features were interesting, but she would carry herself well and act with confidence to make up for that, but her current behaviour reflected not only confidence, but the slightest hint of… superiority. It hit Ella. She was acting like so many women before her who had married important (or in Billy's case, snivelling) men, like she was better than those around her. There was only a hint of that in the way she spoke, but it was still there.

"That's not too far from here, is it?" Ella asked curiously.

"Not thirty miles, I think," she replied, stirring some sugar into her coffee. "I want you to come and visit at the end of next month, we'll be settled in by then, and I'd like to spend time with you again," she said.

"Well… my place is being renovated then, so I suppose I could," she muttered. "I don't know, we'll see," she said.

"I _would_ have you as a bridesmaid, you know Ella, but Billy just couldn't find a best man or any groomsmen at last minute like this, so we're both ditching them, it's quite alright, the wedding is going to be small," she explained. "I have your invite, it's on a Saturday, two weeks from now," she said, rifling through her purse.

"Wow, is that new?" Ella asked, as Charlotte passed her the invite.

"Oh, the bag? Yes, it is, Billy's boss, Lady Catherine sent it to me for an engagement gift, it's a Birkin," she replied. "Isn't it so cute? They're _so_ expensive, but she's absolutely loaded," she explained, clutching the violently expensive bag in her freshly manicured hands.

"Too expensive, Char, they cost thousands and thousands of pounds," Ella replied, sipping her tea and frowning slightly.

"Yep," Charlotte replied with a smile. "God, it feels so good to know that I'm going to be taken care of, Billy is earning a fair bit of money now, and he's only going to be getting more and more as Rosings expands, he buys me nice things all the time," she said, with a blissful tone. "See these shoes? They're Jimmy Choo. I have three pairs, all _exactly_ the same, except one is in charcoal black, the other is in ebony black, and these are ink black," she said proudly.

"Must have cost a fortune," Ella muttered.

"You know, you should have married Darcy," Charlotte said, as Ella rolled her eyes. "He was always looking at you, he was completely infatuated with you, and you let him walk away!" she continued.

"He wasn't interested; he's almost ten years older than me!" Ella objected.

"He was _gorgeous_, I've never seen such an attractive man, he's intelligent and polite, a bit of a jerk, I know, but boy, he is _rolling_ in it," she added animatedly, as if Ella had never objected at all. "I'm telling you Ella, you're young, you're attractive, you're dripping with sex appeal and you're educated to boot, as well as being a successful musician, you've got a lot to offer a man, you just have to find one who's _right_," she said firmly.

"Let me guess, he has to be in his nineties and completely loaded, right?" she questioned sarcastically. "I thought that was Caroline's game, not mine," she added pointedly.

"Elle, marry someone successful and attractive, someone with charm," Charlotte said, placing a hand on her wrist and speaking resolutely.

"I can get by in the world without a rich husband beside me, Charlotte," Ella said pointedly, but Charlotte only shook her head.

"Elle, the music industry is booming, it's doing _too_ well," she said, as Ella frowned.

"What are you talking about?" she questioned.

"Well think about it, okay? There are so many artists out there, so many musicians making it into the industry, all the attention is spread out and so is the money," she explained. "Kids are only buying a few CDs and downloading the rest, the internet is too easy to use, they don't need to pay when they can get it for free," she continued. "And everyone has been hinting that there's going to be another stock market crash in America this year, which means kids are going to have practically nothing to spend on things like CDs and concert tickets, they'll be getting _all_ of their music from the internet. Every kid on the planet can have Kipling on their ipod and only one CD could have been bought to make all of that possible, that means, what, two pounds for the members of Kipling and The In Section to spread out between all of them? Those aren't good odds, Ella, you need someone who gets their money somewhere else, somewhere reliable," she said.

"I lived on about sixty euros a week for two years, and I could have lived on half of that if I wanted, I don't need to be ridiculously rich to get by, and I don't need a ridiculously rich husband either," she replied pointedly, as Charlotte sighed.

"Ella, remember what you were like in your first two years of University? Sure, you were living on practically nothing and if you weren't studying or at school you were waitressing in some seedy artists café or busking on the Rue de la Seine, all you had was that little studio apartment, a beat up piano and an acoustic guitar," she stressed. "You lived on coffee and croissants; do you really want to go back to that life? I know that you didn't part in the best of ways, but Jacques rescued you from that life, he treated you life a princess, like you deserved," she continued, as Ella pulled her hand away.

"Charlotte, you're lying to yourself, and now you're lying to me," she snapped. "I was in Paris for three years and I loved it," she continued firmly. "I admit that it was tough, but I couldn't just accept charity off my father, I wanted to work for what I had and I did, I don't want to sit back and just count my money, I would feel dirty, and I'm surprised that you don't feel filthy," she said, running a hand through her dark curls. Charlotte sighed.

"I'm not stunningly gorgeous like Jayne, and I'm not so sweet and gentle like her either, I'm not talented and vivacious and clever like you, and I don't even have that naïve adorability about me like May has, hell, I don't have much to offer, but all I want is a baby, and someone to take care of me," she said softly. "Billy can do that, Elle," she continued, with a slight note of pleading in her voice. "Please understand that I'm scared of being alone! I just can't be the woman who never married, never had children, and just watched all her friends lead happy lives, I can't do that Ella," she finished.

"I'm going to try and – understand, Charlotte, but I don't really think that I do, I suppose I'm too self-righteous for my own good," Ella said calmly, leaning forwards and rubbing her temples. "I'll come to your wedding, and I'll visit you in Kent, but I can't just ignore it all, ignore what you're doing to yourself, I'll try, but there's no guarantee that I can," she continued, breathing deeply.

"That's all I'm asking, Ella," Charlotte said softly. "I had better go, I'm getting my dress this afternoon, and I need to finish the last of the arrangement," she declared, standing up. "I'll ring you tomorrow, okay? I miss you, Elle," she admitted, hugging her tightly before they parted ways.

Ella took a taxi back to her empty house. She looked around and sighed bitterly. She had gotten so used to having people come in and out of her house for the past month or two that she felt very, very alone. She took off her coat, put down her bag and strolled over to the phone, dialling a long distance number in Germany. She managed to get out, with her small amount of German that she had learnt the number for her father's room, and waited to be connected.

"Jean-Baptiste Bennette speaking," answered a familiar voice.

"Papa? It's that daughter of yours, I just wanted to say hello," Ella greeted in French when he picked up.

"Ella-Rosé?" he questioned. "I didn't realise it was time for my annual communication with you," he joked in his usual playful banter.

"Oh shutup old man, I call you at least once a week," Ella replied in a similar tone. "We just sent Jayne off a little while ago, she should arrive in Berlin airport pretty soon," she informed him, sitting down on her bench.

"Your Uncle told me," he replied. "I'm having lunch with the two of them when she lands, and then I'll be there when she gets sent off," he added happily. "That reminds me, this summer, Marseille, are you up for it?" he asked her.

"Well in late Fall I'll be spending a few weeks with Aunt Maddie and Uncle Eddie in England, that will go into early summer, but I'll definitely be there, I was thinking that maybe Jayne and May should come, and Malcolm too," she continued, flipping through a stack of gossip magazines that Lye had brought over, trying to point out that she _was_ a celebrity, and should therefore take her to more parties.

"Are they getting that serious then?" he questioned curiously.

"I think so," Ella replied, pushing one of the magazines away that tried to convince the public she was in her second trimester of pregnancy, all because she was wearing waist-high jeans and a baggy, tuck-in shirt. "I'm not sure, I haven't run anything past anyone, I just think that it might be a good idea," she explained, before glancing over another magazine that had her on the cover.

"Are you talking to Charlotte yet?" her father asked her, as Ella softly bit her lip, but not because some paparazzi had snapped up a picture of her buying tampons and decided it was print-worthy.

"I spoke to her today," Ella answered. "I don't know, things are still weird between us, but I guess we're getting there," she continued, tossing the magazine aside.

"Well, there's my stubborn little offspring with her never-forgiving ways," her father commented with imitated nostalgia. "Brings back memories," he added teasingly, as Ella laughed.

"You're an odd one, dad," she replied, shaking her head. "I think I'm going to get a puppy. I'm really lonely," she commented, frowning slightly.

"Good plan, I can look after in when you're tramping around the planet," he said cheerfully. "I think that after this summer I'm staying in Marseille, I'm sick of hospitals," he informed her.

"Dad! You can't give up! I just _know_ that you're going to get better," she insisted, but he only laughed bitterly.

"I would rather relax at home than sit in a sterile hospital room everyday, only able to see the sun every couple of weeks, going to lunch with my half-brother-in-law and niece considered an outing of the extreme-nap-requiring kind," he replied. "You of all people should be able to understand that, darling," he said, as Ella sighed.

"Yeah… I guess," she muttered, as he chuckled.

"I can see that this is conflicting with that ever-firm resolve of yours that you should never give up, no matter how terrible things seem," he countered. "Elle, this is what I want, let me have some peace, I'm not nearly as strong as you, I've been completely worn out by the past decade and I just want to relax in my own home for the remainder of my days," he stressed.

"I know dad, I understand," she said finally. "I had better go, I'm serious about getting a puppy, you know," she said with a grin, as her father laughed.

"Poor puppy," he commented. Ella gave a teasing, wounded cry, before they bid goodbye, hung up, and she slid off the bench, and got her coat and bag.

"What about this one?" the hopeful man questioned, as Ella walked past yet another cage.

"He's too big, I don't have room," Ella said regretfully as she walked past the adorable Labrador pup. "I'm sorry sweetheart, maybe when I have a bigger backyard, okay?" she said softly to the dog, before they continued on to the next cage.

"What exactly are you looking for again?" the assistant asked, as Ella shrugged.

"I just want a small dog, I'd like to give it a good home," she explained.

"Well, Miss Canterbury, we can go back and look at the Chihuahuas if you want, I know that they're all the rage amongst superstars these days," he offered. His enthusiasm for meeting a celebrity had been overcome when he realised that Ella had no idea what she was really looking for, and it was going to be a tough job.

"I told you that their heads look like lemons, they're cute and all, but I couldn't look at it everyday," Ella replied, frowningly, as the man sighed.

"You should go to a pet shop, or a breeder, this is just a Pound," he said exasperatingly.

"Well why are you showing me all the purebreds?" she asked flippantly.

"I just assumed that you would want the best quality dog," he replied, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Show me anything you have that needs a good home, and can survive in a reasonably small backyard and house," she insisted, as he took a deep and steady breath.

"We did get a dog in here a few weeks ago, it was very pregnant and had a litter of puppies," he explained.

"Ooh, really? How old was she? How big?" Ella asked excitedly.

"I meant the puppies," he informed her.

"Oh, really?" she asked, as he nodded, and began to lead her past cages of beautiful, homeless animals.

"The mother was given to a little boy yesterday, and most of the puppies have been taken home by different families, but I think we have one left," he explained. "It's a cross-breed, I'm afraid, something between a Shiatsu, a Maltese and a King Charles Spaniard, but it shouldn't be very large at all, I think it's a boy," he said, leading her towards the smaller cages.

"Has he been vaccinated and de-sexed everything?" Ella asked, as the man nodded.

"That's standard procedure for all animals born on the premises," he replied. "Here he is," he said finally, opening a cage door and allowing Ella to look in.

He was adorable. Not very large, even for a new puppy standard, and his fur was a gorgeous cross between snowy white and a red-brown. He had big, inquisitive eyes that shone brightly when he saw Ella peek through, and short ears that were very floppy regardless of their size. He was very, _very_ cute.

"Can I take him?" Ella asked quickly.

"Sure, you have to pay though," the man replied.

"I don't care; I want to take him home with me!" Ella replied eagerly, leaning into the cage, and taking the puppy in her hands. "Hello there! I'm Ella, your new Mum," she said softly, rubbing his fur.

"Alright then, you have to sign a form to take him home and pay as well, there's a shop in the front where you can get everything you need to make your home dog-friendly," the man informed her.

An hour later Ella was in her house, Michelangelo Zephyrus Bennette sitting comfortably in his new doggy-bed under her piano, the never before used doggy-door swinging happily with its freshly oiled hinges, a bowl of water and a mixture of dry and wet dog food by the back door, several doggy toys sprawled on the floor beside the couch, and Ella was covering almost everything in her house with newspaper.

"Now Michelangelo, you aren't to piddle on _anything_ inside, you have to go outside," she said firmly, as Michelangelo looked up at her with his adorable eyes. Somehow he listened with full attention when she spoke in French, but wasn't as interested when she spoke in English, so she had taken to giving him instructions in her native tongue. She had spent ten minutes demonstrating to him with a water bottle that he couldn't go to the bathroom inside of the house, but he could outside. She gathered that he understood from the look that he gave her, but she wasn't sure if that was really much confirmation as to his abilities.

Ella looked around thoughtfully, and then decided that it was best that she should cover the couch with a few sheets of newspaper, even though he wasn't big enough to get up by himself. She looked around before spotting the magazines on the bench, and grabbed a few, taking their staples out and scattering papers around the couch. She picked up another one, a popular music magazine, and flipped it open to the middle section, where the staples were. She was about to rip them off when she saw the article in the magazine.

**CANTERBURY ZIMMERMAN – WHO IS SHE, REALLY?**

She scanned the photos attached to the article. Most of them she had never seen before, but there were some that looked familiar. She recognised several as pictures Gee had taken of her at her house, in just a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair in a loose bun. She looked casual and – almost, _free_, in a sense, but she hadn't given him permission to sell those photographs! She quickly read through the article. It was the usual, it had nothing new of scandalous, a little bit of speculation about how she was handling the change of cellist in Kipling, and a few things about who she was expected to record with before the next album went underway, funnily enough, Darcy being one of them. It didn't bother Ella, any idiot would realise that she wasn't going to be recording anything with him, or anyone on that article, especially considering that 2Pac was dead and wasn't 'really interested in her music', as the article had ridiculously said.

She tore the pages of the magazine up. Those photos were private things, she was _so_ angry at Gee for selling them to some crappy music rag that still hadn't worked out that 2Pac was dead.

She threw the entire magazine very hard at her couch, pages flew everywhere and Michelangelo gave a funny whimper from under the piano.

"Aw, I'm sorry boy, it's just that a very silly boy did something silly," she told him calmly, in French. She bent under the piano and picked him up, holding him close and warm. "I suppose I should stop getting angry at people, it isn't working that much, is it?" she muttered softly before sighing. "He probably needed the money. I heard his tourist magazine fired him," she added, brushing Michelangelo's fur back. "Well sweetie, I suppose it's just you and me then!" she declared finally, looking around her empty, paper coated apartment and sighing deeply. She missed Jayne already.

**A/N: Hmmmm, did you like it? PLEASE review, I really like to hear what I'm doing wrong, what I'm doing right, what I can improve on, it all makes me a better writer and you get to read a better story :D**


	15. I miss you, Jayne

A/N: I'm afraid that this is a bit of a filler chapter

**A/N: I'm afraid that this is a bit of a short filler chapter. Or at least, the last half is. I promise you that next chapter we see Darcy again, I swear it! And, since this one is really short, the next will be extra-long :D**

**Amanda: I couldn't PM you because you only left an anonymous review, but I would be grateful if you could point out where I referred to Jayne as Ella's sister or Fran as her mother, because I've gone through the story and I can't find any such mention. I did, however, notice that once I've listed Anne as Lady Bourg's foster daughter, and once as her protégée, but she's both in a way, Lady Catherine is training her to become the heiress of Rosings Mobiles and Rosings Park. Thank you for your review though, if you find the mention then please PM me.**

Charlotte's wedding went off in a tasteful affair. It was held in a nice little church, tucked away on the edge of London, everyone was nicely dressed and had only good wishes for the bride and groom.

"My, Ella, doesn't Billy took lovely in a suit?" Mrs Lucas commented, dragging her long-trailed dress up to her favourite thing to torment.

Mrs Lucas and Mrs Gardiner _could_ be called friends by the unsuspecting onlooker, but the truth was that they only competed with each other based on the success of their children. Mrs Lucas had five children, three boys and two girls, the girl, Mariah (named after Mrs Lucas' favourite singer), was the same age as Ella and May, and worked in a very nice preschool for young children. All of the boys were grown up and had respectable jobs, one was a doctor, another a lawyer, and another an accountant. They were all married, with children, and that was really what Mrs Lucas held above Mrs Gardiner's head, _she_ had grandchildren. Fran Gardiner would often proudly remind her that she had one daughter who was a supermodel, another who was studying to be a doctor but was also in a very famous band, and the last was 'so beautiful that she can be a model like Jayne'.

So therefore, Mrs Lucas picked on Ella. Fran Gardiner's 'dirty little secret', she was put under her care when she was fourteen, and spent two years making Fran's life hell. She graduated two years ahead of the rest of the sixteen year olds at school, and then left, without a word, using the money her father had given her for university tuition, and moving into her mother's old Paris apartment and avoiding all contact with Fran Gardiner. She was the one thing Mrs Lucas would _always_ get ahead of Fran Gardiner on, and she loved it.

"Err… interesting, is the word," Ella replied, wincing slightly. Billy looked like a fat toad squeezed into people's clothing. He had a satisfied smirk on his red face as he stuffed food into his mouth at the wedding reception.

"And just think, _you_ could have been sitting where Charlotte is right now," she added smugly, as Ella rolled her eyes and sipped some of the complimentary champagne. It didn't taste that wonderful.

"Not by will, I can assure you," she replied pointedly, but it was lost on Mrs Lucas.

"So when are _you_ getting married? You haven't even been seeing anyone recently, have you?" she probed.

"Well, I thought about getting married, but then realised that I'd have to stop having sex with the hot European models that come to our parties," she answered thoughtfully, as Mrs Lucas' jaw dropped, and she turned slightly pink. "I can set you up with one if you want, most of them don't speak any English, but I've never had a problem with that," she added happily. "Excuse me, I think I'm going to get a refill," she said, standing, and leaving the table.

"Hmm, you have that satisfied look about you," Malcolm commented when she approached his table.

"Mrs Lucas always makes me feel so guilty when I tease her, she's like a single-celled organism with no perception of humour," she commented, taking a seat next to May, who was looking a bit queasy. "May, are you alright?" she asked her with concern.

"Err… fine," May replied shakily, running her hand through her hair.

"Malcolm, how much has she had to drink?" Ella asked quickly.

"Nothing at all," he replied. "She hasn't been drinking lately, and the word 'ice tea' almost makes her puke," he added cheekily.

"Well has she been sick?" Ella asked worriedly.

"A bit, actually," he informed her, softly running a hand up and down May's back in a comforting gesture. "I had to drive her to college a few times because she missed her bus to the train station, she was too busy throwing up," he explained.

"Jesus Christ Malcolm, is May pregnant?" Ella asked, her voice a little higher that what it should have been.

Malcolm promptly fell off his chair.

Ella and May stifled laughter as he got up, pushing his hair back, trying to look composed.

"She's just got a bug!" he replied, trying to keep his voice low.

"Its okay, Elle, I'm _definitely_ not pregnant," May informed her. "I'm sick, yeah, but not pregnant," she assured her.

"Thank God, not that a baby is a bad thing or anything, it's just that you're only twenty-two," Ella said.

"We're very careful, Ella," Malcolm said. "I'm not an idiot, and I understand the concern, you just freaked me out a bit," he said, breathing deeply. "This is going to hurt in the morning," he muttered, squeezing his elbow.

"Sorry I scared you there old boy, I have to be more considerate of the elderly," Ella said teasingly. Malcolm flashed her one of his pointed glares, but she had practically grown up with him, and they had little effect on her. "Hmm, why are you squinting? Do you need glasses?" she asked cheekily.

"May, your cousin is being horrid," Malcolm said grumpily, shuffling his chair closer to his girlfriend.

"Tough cookies, I was born horrid," Ella replied cheerily.

"I know, you pulled my hair when I was five years old," he replied, rubbing his head. "It still hurts to this day!" he added, as Ella laughed.

"I thought you were more upset when I sent your Barbie dolls out to sea in my homemade boat," she said, as Malcolm's eyes went wide.

"They were action figures!" he insisted, in French.

"Yeah right, the only action they were getting was Ken in the hot-tub," she replied, she too switching to French as May gave them a bemused expression.

"Lies! I was a very masculine five-year-old, stop teasing me!" he snapped.

"Remember when you wore your sister's pink cowboy boots to school? That was _so _funny, and _so_ masculine," Ella said, with a great deal of nostalgia in her tone.

"Elle, are you teasing Malcolm?" Denny asked as he approached; a drink in hand.

"_Oui_," both Malcolm and Ella replied, before they returned to their bickering in fast-paced French, a language that neither Denny nor May could understand.

"What do you think they're saying?" Denny asked, sitting down and glancing over at May, who was watching curiously.

"Well, I don't speak French, but I have heard 'Barbie' several times," she replied thoughtfully.

"Then they're probably talking about their childhood," Denny said. "Hey, we're performing on Parkinson's tomorrow night, are you going to be up for it?" he asked her curiously.

"Yeah, I've been practising," May replied, with a small grin. "We're doing 'Step into the Light', right?" she questioned, as he nodded.

"Yep, it's alright though, because we don't need to be interviewed or anything," he informed her. "I think she just called him a pokemon," Denny said, glancing back at the two, who were still in a fast paced insulting match.

"Surely one of the most horrible insults known to man," May laughed. "Come on, let's let them argue for a while," she said, as she and Denny stood, and left the table.

"So you _will_ come and visit me Ella, you promise?" Charlotte said an hour later as she wrapped her friend closely in her arms. "I don't think I could ever have a carefree moment if I know that you're still upset with me," she continued.

"Of course I'll come, you name the date and I'll be there," Ella smiled softly. Things were never going to be the same between them, but they were improving.

"You can't bring Michelangelo with you, I'm afraid, because Billy hates dogs," she said regretfully.

"That's alright, Malcolm can look after him," Ella replied, as they released each other from the hug. "Call me, a lot," she begged her, as Charlotte nodded her head.

"All the time," she promised, with a short smile. "I have to go, Billy is getting impatient," she said finally.

"Take care of yourself then Char," Ella replied, as her former best friend turned away, and she and Billy slid into the waiting wedding car, people cheering and throwing confetti around as the car slid over the drive, and down the road, its headlights getting smaller and smaller, until they were just tiny pinpricks in the distance. Ella sighed softly as she returned to the church to get her things. More than anything she wanted Jayne to be back, so they could comfort each other, but Jayne was thousands of miles away from her, and it would be months before they could see each other again.

Missing Jayne was a full-time occupation, but over the next few weeks Ella had very little time to wallow in her own misery. Most days were booked solid with rehearsals, interviews, television appearances, and meeting with the record company. May was half in awe and half terrified of the way her life was working out, but Ella had argued firm that her contract would be flexible enough as to not interfere with her studies, if she wished to return to them.

And Ella had other concerns, not just those with May and Jayne. The record company was hounding her to write songs for other artists, to feature on albums and songs and duets, and low of all lows, Kipling's Press Agent handed her a list of names.

"What are these?" Ella asked curiously at one of the meetings, picking up the sheet of paper as it was handed to her.

"You need to be seen with all of these people – I can set rendezvous up and we can sell it to the magazines for media coverage," Cheryl Jacobs replied. She was a tall, slender woman with pristine scarlet hair, she reminded Ella of Caroline Hurst, only slightly.

"Umm… why do I need to be seen with Justin Timberlake?" Ella asked awkwardly, still scanning the list.

"We want to give the media two impressions to go on. One, is that you'll be working with these people on albums, and the other is that you're dating them," Cheryl replied pointedly.

"Why would I want to… hang on, who is this guy?" she asked, reading a name in the middle of the list. "And why does it say 'kiss' next to his name?" she questioned sharply.

"Just a kiss on the cheek, to cast some suspicion as to your love live," she replied. "Sure, everyone was interested in Mayumi Eden at first, but it's Canterbury they love, and Canterbury they want to see more of," she explained.

"But I don't _want_ to be seen as a partying slut by the media, and I don't want them taking pictures of me at all! I just want them to leave me alone!" she exclaimed.

"The public needs to see more of you! We can't let them forget Kipling before the next album is released! We need suspense!" Cheryl cried in response.

"I don't care! Let me do some charity work, I _gave_ you a list of organisations that I wanted Kipling to be involved with, I would _like_ to be a part of them!" Ella countered, crossing her arms.

"We don't want to go down that whole U2, Bono, 'look I'm saving the Universe thing'," snapped Cheryl, as Ella scowled.

"It's not a 'thing', I _actually_ want to become involved," she replied.

"Fine, we can arrange some lovey-dovey kissing babies and planting trees thing," Cheryl practically spat. "But you have to go clubbing more often," she added sternly.

"I'm sorry, I thought that you worked for Kipling, not the other way around," scowled Ella, as Cheryl snorted sarcastically.

"Honey, I can make any guy off the street famous, but unless you make an effort you're going to be writing jingles before your twenty-third birthday," Cheryl replied coolly. "Go clubbing more often, get photographed having a good time, get a boyfriend, for Christ's sake," she practically ordered.

"I'll do what I want, thank you very much," snapped Ella. "Set up meetings. I want to do concerts and fundraisers for all of the charities and organisations I listed last week," she said in a finalising tone.

"Fine then, be stubborn, it's not _my_ career that's on the line," snapped Cheryl, taking her papers and putting them into her briefcase, clipping it shut and storming from the meeting room.

She still had time, however, between meetings, rehearsals, charity performances, interviews and constant arguing between her and her Aunt to correspond with Jayne. Ella was still concerned for her cousin's happiness though. Her emails recounted her activities with Wendell, Alice and Sam, and on Maddie's progress and happiness. She was well into her eighth month by that stage, and the baby would be born in a few short weeks. But Jayne's letters missed her usual happiness and optimism, they didn't sound like her at all. She was very careful not to mention anything to do with Charlie, but she did comment that she might see Caroline whilst she was in California.

Ella almost rolled her eyes at that. She recalled when Jayne was first telling her about how she and Charlie had broken up her feelings towards Caroline, but that all seemed in the past. Ella tried to remain positive in her replies, but she was still too angry at both Charlie and Caroline to give any opinions on whom she should and should not visit.

A few weeks after Charlotte's wedding, Ella saw Gee again. She was walking past the café, intending to get a cup of tea and a muffin before she continued her shopping, and he was sitting in the booth leaning against the window. Ella came within an inch of storming inside and slapping his face, but her pity overwhelmed that desire. She kept on walking, and got a bottle of soft drink from Starbucks. She didn't trust herself around Gee any longer. She still stood firmly by her resolve, she didn't hate him, but she no longer wished to associate with him. She pushed all thoughts of Gee from her head as she headed into the record store. He wasn't worth her time or her worry.

**A/N: A lot of people have been getting upset about the way Ella behaves around Gee, saying that she's being too nice to him. Well, the truth is, she can't hate him just yet, it would ruin the story. She pities him and thinks he's a creep, but a harmless creep. She thinks that he sold the pictures of her to get money because he had been fired, and so she doesn't sue or report him, she just lets it slide. Thanks for reading, please review! Another chapter is coming up soon, it'll be a good one, I promise :D**


	16. Hand on Your Heart

A/N: Well, I told you that you would get some Darcy soon

**A/N: Well, I told you that you would get some Darcy soon! How about a whole chapter of him? Yep, don't I love you all so much? Next chapter we see some Darcy and Ella interaction, joy! The song Darcy sings about Ella in this chapter is called 'Face' by Damien Rice, it's a fantastic song, and I thought it was very appropriate, because it's all jumbled up but you can still get some meaning, like Darcy's thoughts, and it never says 'I love you', simply 'I adore you', because he doesn't want to admit that he loves her yet. So enjoy! This chapter is better than yesterday's awful one, please don't hurt me :S**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own it! I would LIKE to, you know, but I'm not THAT good.**

Approximately 130 miles North of London, a man sat before a piano, his elbows leaning on the glossy black surface, his hands supporting his head and tousled in his hair.

"Play, God damn you, play!" he cried to himself, his cry desperate and angry. How could it be that he simply could not write anything new? The only thing he had produced since he left London was a song about how much he needed Ella, it was like there was a huge hole in a part of his – he shuddered to say it and represent all of the cliché lines he had always despised – heart that he didn't even know existed. It was torture. He hadn't gotten out of London quick enough, he wasted his time trying to play games with that – _child_, and now he could hardly sleep at night; because he knew that he could be waking up completely alone.

It was funny, if anyone had asked him what the feeling he hated most was, or what his greatest fear was, or what was the Kryptonite to his Marvel comic alter-ego was a few months ago, he could have given a whole list of different answers, he hated the feeling of waking up on a cold morning with his feet not covered by the blankets, his greatest fear was his family getting hurt, and he didn't like Marvel comics, ask him about Death Note or Bleach and he could tell you anything.

But now his singular answer for all of those questions was waking up without Ella by his side, because that was the worse feeling in the world, it made him fear going to sleep, and it killed him every morning.

He had practically driven Gina insane ever since she arrived at Pemberley with Richard and the twins; he was always locked up in either his study or his music room, which were both connected to each other, thankfully. When they sought his company he was distracted, he couldn't think straight, and all conversation was completely lost on him. Yet his family were used to this behaviour. They knew that when he was making a record, his activities was somewhat odd, but they were a little suspicious as to why the music room was almost always silent.

There was a knock at the door, and Wilhelm sighed.

"Come in," he called, knowing full well that it was probably Alexandria or Christian, seeking him to read them a story or take them for a ride on his horse. "Oh, it's you, Gina," he said, when the tall, willowy figure of his sister entered the room.

"Hmm, try not to sound _too_ disappointed there big brother," she replied teasingly, her platinum grey eyes sparkling. "Officially I'm here to give you the mail, Mrs Reynolds asked me to, but unofficially I'm here to annoy you," she said cheerily, wandering over to an empty stool near his piano.

"Great, just what I needed," replied Wilhelm, rolling his eyes. "Don't you have children that require feeding and cleaning? I recalled two small human-like creatures wandering around in search of their owners," he said dryly, as Gina laughed.

"Richard can clean and feed them," she countered, putting a pile of letters beside her on the piano stool. "Are you working on anything?" she asked him curiously.

"It seems like it, doesn't it," Wilhelm replied offhandedly, avoiding the question.

"I know you Will, and I _thought_ that you were, at first, but this is… different, you haven't been running from room to room with sheet music in your hand, scribbling down notes and going through books, you're either in here or your study morning noon and night, and I haven't heard much music," she explained. "Well, other than my Kipling CDs, I can't believe you took all of them! I had all of their original EPs and everything, you've got an ipod, put them on and give me back my CDs!" she ordered laughingly.

"What? Oh, yes, sorry about that," he muttered. "Did you know that the cellist left?" he asked her curiously.

"Yeah, Auntie was going on and on about how her Personal Assistant was marrying her," she replied. "I saw the interviews with the new cellist, I really like her so far, she's a bit… strange, but so is Canterbury and Denzel," she added. "Carmen always seemed to be like the balancing part of it, it'll be interesting to hear their next album," she continued. "Are you even listening?" she asked, when she saw him softly running his hands over the keys, not playing them, not pressing anything, but smiling ever so slightly.

"Oh, yes, I am," he replied quickly. "Yes, Denzel is a bit odd, but he was remarkably friendly when we met," he said, as Gina's jaw dropped.

"_YOU _met Denzel Jon?" she squealed excitedly. "Oh I _hate_ you, you didn't tell me anything about London at all, and now I hear that you met _Denzel Jon_!" she cried.

"I met the whole band, Gina, _and_ The In Section, I went to their parties, for Christ's sake," he countered.

"Oh yeah, I remember that story in Us Weekly," she muttered thoughtfully. "You'd think that they would give you some free CDs so that you didn't steal your baby sister's," she added frowningly.

"I only borrowed an album and two EPs, Gina," he replied, waving her off.

"Alright, enough distraction, I know that you're not making another album, so I want to know what you're doing," she said firmly.

"I _am_ making another album – or at least I'm _trying_ to," he responded, nervously hitting a few keys.

"I don't buy it; you're acting too weird for it to be another album, what's up, big brother?" she asked with concern.

"I'm just having a little trouble, my muse is…" he trailed off, hitting a few more keys in nervous energy.

"Temperamental?" Gina offered playfully, as Wilhelm gave half laugh and half sigh.

"Yes, but mostly in London," he replied, running his hands through his hair.

"Your muse is London?" Gina questioned curiously.

"No, my muse is _in_ London," he corrected. "And I've only written one song since I left London," he sighed.

"But you came _back_ from London with a whole pile of really fantastic music, all you need to do is record the lyrics, which I really _would_ like you to let me read, and you can send that CD to the record company," Gina countered, as Wilhelm shook his head.

"No," he said softly, as Gina sighed in defeat.

"Alright, play me what you've written most recently," she demanded.

"What? I don't – it's not ready!" he insisted, as Gina rolled her eyes.

"_Play_, piano boy," she said sharply, jabbing him in the stomach.

"I – it's not for the piano," he said. "I'll play it if you just let me get my guitar," he promised, as Gina nodded. He stood, and selected a vintage Fender Jaguar from the guitar cabinet, plugged it into an amp and turned on the distortion.

"Hmm, angry song," Gina said playfully, as her brother shot her a silencing glance. "Oh, right, silly me," she muttered, waiting patiently for him to begin. He cleared his throat, tuned the guitar a little, and then started to play.

"_How I know  
Go, bow, end, send, mend, bend, pretend,  
Shut your face again  
Bleed, seed, need, read, breath on my knees,  
How I choose to breathe  
Lie, cry, learn, grow, slow, fall, stall,  
How I build my wall  
Hate, wait, bait, kiss and taste the place,  
And make weather in my face_

The only one that you know  
I wanna live, wanna die, wanna grow old with you  
I wanna be the only one that you know  
'Cause I adore you  
I do yeah

How I choose bruise, loose, win, sin, bin, tease, please,  
I want to have her on her knees  
Play, pray, say, rock, feel, kneel, dream,  
How I choose to scream  
Shout, wake, sleep, I need to touch her deep  
Change,  
Rearrange,  
Fate, wait, weight, kiss and taste the place  
And make weather in my face

The only one that you know  
I wanna live, wanna die, wanna grow old with you  
I wanna be the only one that you know  
'Cause I adore you  
I do yeah

You, you, you, you, you

I wanna be the only one that you know  
I wanna live, wanna die, wanna grow old with you  
I wanna be the only one that you know  
'Cause I adore  
I adore, I adore  
I adore I adore  
Adore you, adore you, adore you"

He _did_ sing with anger, but he also sung with desperation and need. Gina listened carefully. '_My muse is _in_ London…'_ She sat up, slightly startled. His muse was a woman? That was most certainly the impression he was giving her!

The fact that her brother was smitten didn't upset Gina at all, he was a man after all, he _did_ date women, but she was concerned about the fact that he had written a _song_ about it. He never committed any affection to music; he just didn't behave in that manner. He was terribly secret about his private life, and to have written lines like '_I adore you'_, '_I wanna grow old with you_', and '_I wanna be the only one that you know_' was the Wilhelm Darcy equivalent of taking a woman home to meet your parents, or buying a cat together, or asking her to marry him.

"It's really bad, I know," Wilhelm muttered nervously when he had finished.

"Are you kidding? It was great, except some of it probably isn't appropriate for young ears," she replied, with a flicker of a smile. "The lines '_I want to have her on her knees'_ and '_I need to touch her deep_' spring to mind," she added teasingly, as Wilhelm shrugged.

"It's alright, you're probably the only one who is going to hear it," he said quietly.

"Will, tell me about her," Gina begged him. He looked up for a moment, his expression pained.

"I don't really think that I can," he replied bitterly, as Gina sighed.

"Please, Will, I want to know what she's like, I want to meet her," he objected.

"Gina, I don't think that _I'm_ ever going to meet her again, let alone you," he countered pointedly.

"Will, just _tell_ me about her, I know that it'll help," she begged, pushing a lock of wavy white blonde hair from her face. Wilhelm gave one long sigh, and Gina knew that he had given in.

"Her name is Ella-Rosé, she's French," he began.

"How old is she?" Gina asked excitedly.

"Err… twenty-two," he replied, as Gina blanched.

"Wow… that's almost ten years, Will," she pointed out, as he shrugged.

"Let me finish telling the story, okay?" he snapped tiredly.

"Go ahead," she urged him.

"She was born in France, raised on the Mediterranean, I think she said," he continued. "I don't really know much about her family, I've met her cousins and her Aunt… really quite frightening…" he muttered.

"So who is her father? Is he a Lord? An Earl? A Minister? What about an Ambassador? What company does he represent?" Gina asked quickly. Wilhelm sighed. These were all the questions that he didn't want to answer.

"He's no one, Gina, he's in a hospital in Berlin, I don't know what's wrong with him, and I have no idea who her mother is, she doesn't seem to be in the picture," he explained awkwardly.

"Okay, I'm trying not to be a snob here… but she's a _nobody_?" Gina questioned incredulously.

"Well, she's famous in her own right, she isn't exactly a millionaire, or if she is she's very good at hiding it, so it could never really work out between us," he explained.

"That doesn't matter, keep telling me about her. What does she look like? What does she wear? How did you meet?" she asked excitedly.

"Well, she's quite petit, very slender, but… well, she's very nice and curvy at the same time," he informed her.

"Curvy like fat ankles and a double chin, or curvy like 'oh my god I hate you for having boobs and an ass' curvy?" she asked.

"Err, the latter," he replied uncomfortably. "She had really, _really_ nice hair, too," he continued. "It's a really rich dark brown, like chocolate, melted dark chocolate, the Belgium kind, and it's really shiny and smells like strawberries and lilies, _she_ smells like strawberries and lilies, and it's really curly too, and fairly long," he informed her, smiling softly as he remembered. "She's quite pale, but not a pasty pale, like a porcelain doll," he continued.

"So she's pretty?" Gina asked.

"Pretty isn't the word for it," he replied thoughtfully. "She's beautiful, but not really in that traditional sense, you know? She has a lot of really nice features, like high cheekbones and a really straight nose, and her skin is just gorgeous, you know how teenagers have really fantastic skin when it isn't covered with pimples? It's like that," he explained. "I don't know, somehow it all works together, she's got really stunning eyes, they're big and dark, well, sort of, it's like a blue-grey, you see, and they're very, very bright," he continued. "And she has nice eyebrows. Have you ever seen a woman with nice eyebrows? They're like Keira Knightly's, they aren't thin, and they curve perfectly to suit her face," he explained.

"She sounds lovely," Gina smiled.

"_She's_ lovely," Wilhelm said softly. "You know, she finished school a full _two years_ before most people? _And_ she has a degree, when she's only twenty-two, she went to University when she was only sixteen, turning seventeen, and she finished it last year by correspondence, _whilst_ she was doing a whole heap of other things, she's very clever," he said, wrapt up in his memories of her. "She's funny, too, and I love hearing her talk, because she has such a lovely accent, and her English is _impeccable_," he praised. "She's very stubborn though, and I love arguing with her because her eyes would flash brilliantly and her skin would _actually_ glow, it's amazing, she looks like a goddess when she's fired up," he said, his tones hinted with excitement as Gina laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Why don't you call her? Invite her up to Pemberley; I'd love to meet her!" Gina said with equal enthusiasm, as Wilhelm's face fell.

"I can't, you know full well that a relationship with a nobody is an impossibility," he muttered quietly. "I got out of London just in time to be safe, but it was too late to turn back, I have to stop thinking about her," he added calmly.

"Will, it sounds like you feel pretty strongly for her," Gina whispered, as he nodded. "Then maybe you should go after her, talk to her," she suggested.

"Gina, I can't! I want to see her, I want to be around her and talk to her, I want to touch her and kiss her, but I _can't_, it just won't work, we're from two completely different worlds," he replied, standing up, and beginning to pace. "It's not fair! This is torture for me!" he cried. "I want her so badly but – God, this is just useless!" he practically growled, pressing his palms flat against the wall and leaning his head against the surface, his eyes scrunched closed so tightly that he could see stars.

"Will, you're killing yourself," Gina said softly. "Just think about it, okay? Think about what you're going to do," she begged, before she silently stood, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Wilhelm sighed and ran a hand through his hair with frustration.

He paced.

And then he paced some more.

Even though he was tired of pacing, he continued to do so. He needed to think.

The letters on the piano stool caught his eye. He crossed the room and picked them up, grateful for a moment's distraction. Most were bills or junk mail, but there were two things in the pile that deserved his immediate attention. He recalled his Aunt's habit of sending letters and arriving ten minutes after the mailman had delivered them, so he opened the one from Rosings first. His Aunt was a stickler for tradition, and letter-writing was something she still valued very highly.

Wilhelm read through it quickly. It was a demand (hidden as a request) for him to come to Rosings with Gina, Richard and the children. It had the usual information, nothing was much to his interest, but he knew that he had to go. He scowled at the short notice, but he knew that if they left the day after tomorrow and flew down to Kent they would be fine. He put the letter down and picked up the last thing there, it was thicker than all of the others, and when he held it, it felt like it held something plastic.

He opened the large envelope and a DVD slid out. He picked up a note that came with it, and scanned what was written. '_Just thought you might want to see this, since you're pretty close with the band. Hope you're enjoying your holiday and working on making me more money. – Lycos_'. Wilhelm rolled his eyes and looked at the DVD. It was of Kipling, and had things like film clips, live performances, and a documentary which included interviews, and footage form the making of the albums and tours. He knew it was going to be delivered, but it had been delayed with Carmen Luc left Kipling, so it could include some of Mayumi Eden, and a few songs that had only been written recently. It was only a prototype, a first edition before it was sent out to the public in the next few months, before the next album. He looked at the front cover. The DVD was called 'Hand on your Heart', and had a simple design. It was white with a drawing of a small person staring at a big yellow sun, his hand on his heart, beautiful swirls and colours and patterns that were really the closest thing to music he had ever seen. He didn't need to read the credits; he knew that Ella had drawn it instantly.

He wanted to watch it immediately. He picked up the DVD and went through to his study, he was finally thankful for Gina insisting that he put that giant TV in there. He pushed in the DVD and sat down on one of his reading chairs, watching the usual piracy warnings come up before he reached the menu. He decided to watch the documentary.

It started off with someone playing the guitar riff for 'Stupid Song' on a black background, an acoustic version that sounded a fair bit different to the one he had on CD.

"Hey Denny, what's with the camera?" came a laughing voice, heavily lilted with French. He smiled. Her accent was softer now, but he could recognise that voice anywhere.

"When we're rich and famous they can use this footage to make a movie of us," replied Denny's familiar tones, as Wilhelm laughed.

"Who said we're going to be rich and famous?" Charlotte questioned. He knew it was Charlotte, even though the screen was still black.

"One day Char, _everyone_ will know who we are," Denny insisted, as Ella laughed.

"You've still got the lens cap on, stupid," she informed him.

"What? Oh darn it, at least I have the sound though," he replied, as the darkness was lifted, and a smallish studio apartment was revealed.

Ella looked different then. He guessed that the movie was several years old, and she looked to be about seventeen. Her hair was shorter, and she had bangs, but it was the same Ella. She was sitting on the floor, her legs crossed, with an acoustic guitar, playing 'Stupid Song' in a completely different chord sequence.

"Do we have to have it on? You _do_ know that this is just going to be played at my twenty-first birthday to embarrass me, right?" Ella questioned, as Wilhelm laughed. He could see outside of a large window in her (he thought it was hers) apartment, and he recognised Paris instantly. There was a nice section of park quite close, and in the distance he could see the Eiffel Tower.

"Who said you're going to live to be twenty-one? You're probably going to get distracted by a pretty flashing light and walk right into a bus," Denny countered, placing down the camera and joining Charlotte on the couch.

"Lies!" cried Ella. "If anyone is watching this, I'm not _really_ that stupid, honestly," she said earnestly to the camera.

"We're going to laugh _so _hard about this at your twenty-first birthday, Elle," Denny promised, as Ella rolled her fantastically blue eyes. Wilhelm tore his gaze away from her on the screen and looked at the others. Charlotte looked a bit larger, and her hair was very long. Denny still looked like his joking self as he sat comfortably on the couch, pretending that he was in front of a drum kit as Ella played quietly in the background.

"Yeah right, you had better get rid of everything sparkly in the world before you get to her twenty-first," Charlotte joked, as the trio laughed. Wilhelm watched and smiled softly. Suddenly, the scene changed, and three people, looking a bit older and with different haircuts were sitting on the edge of a stage, peering into an open laptop.

"Did you think that you would be here when you recorded this footage?" asked an unseen man.

"Ah… no," Ella replied, still laughing. "We were hardly a band then, this was only a few weeks after we decided to try the music thing," she explained.

"We didn't know _what_ the future was going to entail," Charlotte assured them.

"Looking back, do you think you've changed since then?" the man questioned.

"I'm hotter now," Denny replied, after a pause. They all started laughing, including the interviewer.

"We've all done some growing up," Charlotte replied, as Ella nodded.

"And I don't have bangs anymore," she added with a grin, as they again began to laugh.

The interviewer asked a few more questions, before the documentary exploded into music and laughter and recounts of the past. He watched with fascination as Ella was displayed in front of him. In some ways, it felt like he was watching her grow. He enjoyed the more private, earlier performances they did on the floor in Ella's apartment; they had made a very basic recording area, which was where most of the songs on their EPs were done.

"When did you know you wanted to be a musician?" was a question the interviewer posed, after they had watched some early tour footage.

"When I was twelve years old and I got my first cello lesson," Charlotte replied instantly.

"I don't know, maybe the first time I ever listened to ACDC?" Denny suggested, shrugging.

"I was five years old, and I was sitting on the floor outside of my father's study, listening to him play a vinyl of Joan Baez, it was called 'Any Day Now' and it was a recording of her singing Bob Dylan songs," Ella replied, not looking at the camera.

"And that made you want to be a musician?" the interviewer asked curiously.

"I thought she was amazing, and I wanted to be amazing too," Ella replied. "Music was just my means of doing it," she explained. "There are some things you can say, some things you can be with music, and they don't sound as good when you just say them, or write them down," she added.

Wilhelm smiled. She had in a way encapsulated how he felt about music, why he was a musician after all. He continued to watch, completely entranced by her, by her manner and by her energy and life. He was completely addicted to it.

He watched the DVD again and again and again, on his laptop, on the DVD player in his private jet as it took him and his family down to Rosings Park, again at Rosings. Whenever he thought of Ella, which was quite often, he wanted to watch that DVD. He knew that it was unusual, but Gina saw it as him _really_ liking the band. She wasn't wrong, but he liked the lead singer more than anything.

So when he heard Lady Catherine mention one night, a day or two before they were going to head back to Pemberley that the wife of her Personal Assistant, Charlotte Collins, was going to be visited by one Canterbury Zimmerman, the lead singer of her former band, he knew he had to stay. Lady Catherine was bound to invite Ella to Rosings a few times, so he would be able to see her. He longed to see her like he had never longed to see anyone in the world. He physically needed and required to be near to her. His plan was to see her one more time, get her completely out of his system, before he never saw her again. He had said it time and time again; he would _not_ be undone by a slip of a woman. He was a Darcy, after all.

But even Darcys were not immune to the power of one Ella Bennette.

**A/N: Do you think Ella is a bit of a Mary-Sue? I really don't want her to be one, that's my main goal in this story, but I'm really concerned that maybe she **_**is**_**. I would love it if you could rate her Mary-Sue-ness on a scale of zero to ten, zero being Nymphadora Tonks and ten being that girl played by Katie Holmes in Batman Begins. In layman's terms, zero is not a Mary-Sue and then is oh-my-god-she's-a-bloody-Barbie-doll. Please review :D**


	17. Encounters at Rosings

A/N: Well, a nice long chapter

**A/N: Well, a nice long chapter! I know I updated today but I'm just that sort of gal :D You meet a few new people in here, we see a different side to Darcy, what more could you want? Oh yeah, a game of touch football :D Someone asked me what was wrong with Ella's father, and you find out in this chapter, and about what happened to her mother as well :D**

**CBG: Thanks for the that, I don't even know what DC comics are lol, I like manga and anime so I should probably stick to those types of pop-culture references :S I'm like Darcy, quiz me on Death Note, Bleach, Gintama, or anything Hayao Miyazaki and I'm a straight A student, but I'm lost when it comes to mainstream culture / I think I may have to do a bit more research :S**

**Disclaimer: Nope, sorry :S**

'_Jeez'_, thought Ella. '_A bit over the top_?' she wondered, looking around the hall in pure amazement, Charlotte and Billy looking all too familiar, and very anxious as they awaited Lady Catherine Bourg to enter the very flamboyantly decorated sitting room. Charlotte was constantly smoothing over her best 'imitation of a 1950s housewife' dress.

She could hardly believe it when Billy had told her that it was essential she wore a nice dress, or a skirt, at least to visit Lady Catherine. 'Why can't I wear my jeans?' Ella had asked Billy, who just shook his head at her incredulously.

"One does not wear _jeans_ when visiting Lady Catherine _Bourg_," he informed her as if she knew nothing before he hurried out of the room, leaving Ella alone with her middle finger pointed upwards at his retreating figure.

Ella had been rather irked that she was being required to dress up to visit some old crone. Charlotte had instantly offered one of her dresses for her to wear, but it was very obvious that Ella could wear none of them; she was very slender and petit, with a big bust and tiny waist, whilst Charlotte had a large waist, large hips, broad shoulders and almost no bust. But Billy tracked down something for her to wear, as she had only brought pants and shorts and hadn't time enough to go shopping, he found a pale pink dress that Charlotte's little sister Mariah had left behind when visiting.

It reached Ella's knees, because Mariah was only five foot and Ella had a good four and a half inches height on her, it clung nicely to her waist but she felt that her boobs were being squashed, and the reasonably modest V-neck back line was unnerving her. She had some white sandals with a small heel on them to accompany the dress, but she still felt so out of place.

What was the point of dressing up nicely just to meet some old bat? This thought was running through Ella's mind as she ran a brush through her curls, combing them until they fell in soft spirals, and pushed the left side back with a white bobby pin. Some lip gloss and a bit of eyeliner was all she was game for, who cared what that old codger thought, certainly not her!

Her mouth had dropped when she approached the estate, it was _huge_. It could easily have been a five star hotel in New York, she was sure. Everything looked so perfect, the butler that greeted them was wearing a tuxedo and the maids kept their heads low as they bustled from room to room, but despite the beauty of the building itself, the house looked overdone and gaudy with its silk screen walls, expensive art everywhere and vases that appeared as if out of thin air. 'Jeez', did anyone know how to say 'overdone?'

Ella hadn't been looking forward to visiting Charlotte at all, their relationship was strained, at best, and she _really_ could not stand Billy and all of his droning. But she had gone down to Kent, as promised whilst the renovations began on her house. She missed Michelangelo already, but Malcolm had assured her that he would take good care of him, and they would call every night.

"Calm down Charlotte, she's only human," muttered Ella to her nervous friend, who just gave a stale laugh.

"No, she's not," she hissed, before a maid bustled in to inform them that Lady Catherine would be right with them. Scarcely before she had finished speaking, the doors were opened and a tall, stately looking woman with pristine black hair streaked with grey – who dressed quite similarly to the queen – walked in, her head held high. Her eyes were cold, her frown prominent.

"Amberley, get the drinks," she ordered to the meek looking maid, who bowed, and rushed out of the room. "Sit!' cried Lady Catherine, as her three guests did so. Behind Lady Bourg, Ella could see another woman, whom she didn't recognise. She looked quite gaunt, her hair was a mousy brown and there was a definite greyness to her complexion, but she stood tall and proud in her black skirt-suit.

"Your Ladyship, may I present Ella Bennette, the girl I told you about," Billy rambled on, looking as if he wished to kiss the very ground the Lady was walking on.

"Ah, so _you_ are Ella-Rosé Bennette," said Lady Catherine in her strong voice, one that instantly commanded respect. Ella was distinctively reminded of Meryl Streep in 'The Devil wears Prada'.

"Err – I prefer Ella, if you don't mind," she winced. She had never liked her real name that much, it had four syllables, too many.

"Nonsense, I will call you what you are named!" snapped Lady Catherine. Ella frowned; she was about to say something very rude before Charlotte interrupted, complimenting the woman on something or other.

But Ella had tuned out. She felt she was being watched, a prickling on the back of her neck. She turned quickly, but no one was there. Unnerved, she turned back to Lady Catherine, only to see that there were two new people in the room, one was all too familiar.

"Darcy!" she cried, when her eyes fell upon the tall, brooding frame of the handsome Wilhelm Darcy, standing before in all his glory. Wearing a blazer jacket. And his hair was brushed.

"Not going to introduce me?" said the second man, as Ella glanced at him. He was attractive, a bit taller than Darcy, but the opposite. Where Darcy had lengthy, dishevelled hair of dark, almost black brown, this man had messy, curly blonde hair. Where this man had warm, honey brown eyes, Darcy had icy, silvery-grey orbs of steel. This man's features weren't exactly handsome, like Darcy's, but he had a pleasing smile, and rosy cheeks. "Richard Fitzwilliam is the name, I'm Will's brother-in-law," he said, addressing Ella only. All stood, he moved over to her to shake her hand in greeting. Canterbury, isn't it?"

"Ella Bennette," she replied, shaking his calloused hand with her own soft, tiny one.

"Aha!" Richard cried triumphantly. "I've heard quite a lot about you, it's good to finally see you in person," he informed her. "But rumours of your beauty don't seem to do you justice," he flirted.

"He's married to my sister," Darcy said suddenly, his eyes narrowing in on his brother-in-law, who laughed with good temper.

"My wife is very fond of your music, and I have a suspicion my daughter wants to be you when she grows up," he informed her.

"This is my nephew, Wilhelm Darcy, and the husband of my niece, Richard Fitzwilliam," Lady Catherine butted in commandingly.

"Your ladyship, we already have the privilege of knowing Mister Darcy," threw in Billy, glancing at the broody man.

"Err – I was in London in the winter, Aunt, where I met Mr and Mrs Collins, and Miss Bennette," Darcy explained quickly, when his Aunt sent him a questioning glare.

"Ah yes, now I remember," she said in her stately tone. She began harping Richard's praises whilst Darcy turned to Ella.

"Miss Bennette," he said in his usual grave manner, his face showing no emotion.

"Darcy," she replied with equal coolness. "I didn't know you were going to be here," she said, as he shrugged.

"I'm visiting my Aunt," he supplied, as she nodded in response. She couldn't believe her bad luck; she would have to see him quite a lot over the next few weeks. An awkward silence soon fell over the two.

"Charlotte made me wear this dress," she blurted out finally, as he started, surprised by her sudden conversation topic.

"It looks… very nice on you," he replied, when he had controlled his words.

"I don't like it," she added, before she began staring at her shoes. "I don't like dresses that much," she explained awkwardly.

"I've seen you wear a dress on at least two occasions," he pointed out, as she shrugged.

"I like party dresses… this is no party," she commented, glancing around. "Although, all we need is karaoke and a piñata to liven it up, possibly a disco ball," she added.

"What are you talking about? I _must_ know, it's rude to begin separate conversations when one is speaking," snapped Lady Catherine.

"Miss Bennette and I were just catching up from when we were last in London, Aunt," replied Darcy, giving Ella one last look before he took his seat.

"Have your family been living long in London, Miss Bennette?" questioned Lady Catherine in an authoritative voice, when all were seated in the lavish living room.

"Umm… my Aunt and cousins have been living in London for a while, but my father normally lives in Southern France," Ella replied simply.

"So you do not live with your parents?" Lady Catherine asked, a hint of mockery in her voice.

"No, Ma'am, not at the moment," replied Ella, thinking that she had made it obvious.

"_Oh_," was all the Lady Catherine then said, but the way she said it was in a mean, derogatory and belittling way, as if she felt Ella were just a piece of Country trash.

The conversation made Ella want to cut a body part off. Lady Catherine _this_, Lady Catherine _that_, if she wasn't harping her _own_ praises it was to praise her nephews, or her protégée/foster daughter Anne. '_Gag me with a plastic spoon'_, was the thought that passed through Ella's mind. She was incredibly thankful when dinner was announced, but it meant more questions.

"Are you old enough to drink wine, Miss Bennette?" Lady Catherine questioned her, when the Butler was filling everyone's glasses at the table whilst they waited for dinner to arrive.

"Yes, quite," Ella replied, a slight sarcasm to her tone. "But I won't drink tonight, I don't feel that fantastic," she added. Her insides were shrivelling up every time Lady Catherine opened her mouth. She didn't trust herself to absorb alcohol.

"You should see a doctor immediately, for all you could know it could be cancer, and you could _die,_ just like that," she warned, as Darcy, who sat beside Ella, made a funny choking noise in the back of his throat, halfway between a whimper and a cry of surprise, and placed his glass of wine on the table. "My own sister, Wilhelm's mother, passed away of breast cancer, she didn't take any notice of it till it was too late," Lady Catherine added for dramatic effect.

Ella frowned slightly. Gee had told her that she was in a car crash. But regardless, she suddenly felt very sorry for Darcy, he was a prick, but he had to put up with Lady Catherine _all the time_. It was so unfeeling for her nephew's emotions, and his loss.

"I can assure you ma'am, I have no intention of _dying_, just like that," replied Ella coolly.

"Mr Collins has informed me that you once lived with your Aunt and Uncle in London when you were a teenager," Lady Catherine said, ignoring her comments and the maids served out dinner. "How did that come about?" she questioned.

"My father was not in a position where he could look after me," she replied slowly, thinking out her words.

"And what about your mother? Was she too completely inept?" she asked coolly, as Ella frowned, and Charlotte bit her lip.

"She died when I was thirteen," Ella replied, tilting her head up, her gaze hard and firm.

"And I suppose that rendered your father completely unable to look after you, I suppose," Lady Catherine sneered.

"My father was paralysed in a car crash, so in a way, he could not," she replied, her eyes flashing with challenge.

"Humph," tutted the majestic woman. "And your mother, did she die of cancer? It would give more justification to your condition if there was history of illness in the family," she commented, her cold sneer still intact. Ella resisted the urge to roll her eyes; she declined a drink so suddenly she had a 'condition'?

"She was in the passenger seat of the car," Ella informed her pointedly. All she wanted was the conversation to be over and done with. As fate would have it, Billy interrupted with another compliment – she was saved.

"Darcy was sixteen, when his mother passed," whispered Richard to her, suddenly breaking the silence that hung heavy on that side of the table. Seated between Darcy and Richard, Ella felt a bit overwhelmed.

"He should be thankful, he had sixteen years with her," muttered Ella in reply, before looking down at her plate. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was decorated just as much as the dining hall. "Err – what is this?" she questioned him, poking it with a fork.

"Eggplant, tomato and blue vein cheese," he replied. "With basil and thyme," he added.

"Sounds fantastic," muttered Ella sarcastically. "Eurgh, I hate blue vein cheese, it tastes like smurphs," she mumbled under her breath.

"Smurphs tastes like reindeer cheese, blue vein cheese tastes more like a pokemon," he replied, as Ella gave a small, muffled giggle, and Richard smiled. "It all depends on the preparation, mind you, a poached smurph tastes very different to a filleted smurph," he added.

A glare from Lady Catherine silenced them, and Ella looked back down at her meal, and noticed that everyone was almost halfway finished, so she hesitatingly began to eat it.

"How is your family?" Darcy inquired to Ella, after she had swallowed down a mouthful of the dish.

"Fine, thank you," she replied, a little coolly. "My cousin Jayne is in California, visiting our Aunt and Uncle," she added, trying to decipher if Charlie Bingley knew, and was avoiding her.

"I wasn't aware of that," replied Darcy, taking a sip of his own wine. "And how are you?" he asked, after a pause.

"I'm fine, I suppose," was Ella's answer. Darcy was just about to continue when his Aunt silenced him.

"You have very good English, for a foreigner, Miss Bennette," began Lady Catherine. "Did you receive your education in France, or England?" she enquired.

"Err… I went to school in France until I was thirteen, then I moved to London, and finished high school there," she replied. "I then attended University in Paris," she added.

"And what is your degree in?" Lady Catherine asked, placing down her wine glass with one bejewelled hand.

"It was the English equivalent of a Bachelor of Arts, I majored in French Literature, Philosophy and Phycology," she answered as Lady Catherine cocked an eyebrow.

"Do you have any siblings?" she questioned.

"No, but my cousins are all like sisters to me," she answered.

"And did any of them attend boarding school?" she enquired, as Ella shook her head.

"No, all three of them were schooled in England," she informed her cheerily, pleased that it was upsetting her.

"_Three_ girls? None attending boarding school?" she asked in disbelief. "Why, your Aunt must have been _quite_ exhausted!" she cried.

"Perhaps, but I feel that it would be very hard to be separated from your parents _and_ your siblings simply so that your mother had a little more peace," she countered thoughtfully.

"Do your cousins play any instruments? Have any talents? For I always said that a woman without talent is hardly a woman at all," she commented.

"May plays the double bass and the cello in Kipling, which is the band I'm in, you see, Jayne is a fully trained model and she also makes very nice tea, and Lye… she's very good at shopping," she answered.

"And _you_?" she asked, a little challengingly.

"Well, I'm sure you've gathered that I play several instruments," Ella replied, shrugging.

"Which ones? Is that _all_ you can do?" Lady Catherine asked snappishly.

"I play the guitar, the piano, the harp, and I like to draw," Ella answered coolly, beginning her old game again. So far she could count seventeen ways in which she could end it all.

"I must have you play piano for me, then," insisted Lady Catherine.

"I would really rather not," threw in Ella, as Lady Catherine scowled.

"I _will_ have you play, when dinner is finished," she practically ordered. About to yell and kick up a fuss, Darcy placed a hand on her arm, and shot her a warning look, which plainly said, '_don't_'. "How many years have you learnt?" Lady Catherine questioned.

"Umm, I don't know," Ella said through gritted teeth. "Since I was about seven, I think," she answered.

"And tell me, what is your age?" she questioned.

"A woman never reveals," said Ella, rolling her eyes, but so that Lady Catherine could not see.

"You couldn't be older than twenty-five, I would guess," she countered.

"I am not older than twenty-five," was Ella's only answer. She was twenty-two, but she wasn't about to tell Lady Catherine that, who looked very disgruntled.

"My word, you are rather _bold_ for a young woman," she commented, as Ella simply smiled softly.

"I fully accept my flaws, and endeavour to better myself," she replied, turning back to her meal in silence.

One painful hour later, everyone was seating in the drawing room whilst Ella was looking at a beautiful bird trapped in a cage in the corner. She was wondering if she could free it when she was interrupted.

"Miss Bennette, I would like you to play for me now," said Lady Catherine, momentarily pausing in her conversation with Charlotte about begonias.

"I – I would much rather not," responded Ella, spinning around quickly to face her.

"_Ella_, do as you are told," hissed Billy.

"Ella-Rosé, you really _must_ learn to do as you are told," snapped Lady Catherine. Sighing, Ella made her way to the beautiful grand piano. There was still a soft pink glow coming in from the window, bathing her in warm light. "There, now, play something nice, for no one in the world can have as well-defined musical taste as myself," she replied. "If I had ever learnt to play an instrument, I would have been a prodigy," she added, as Ella seated herself. "Musical talent runs in the family. Why, look at my nephew! He's a world-famous musician!"

Staring down at the keys, she stretched her fingers, and began to play.

Darcy had never heard, or seen something so beautiful. As soon as Lady Catherine told Ella to play, he had seated himself in the best possible position to watch her, the glow from the almost set sun warming her skin, he felt warm himself when he saw the way she looked in that dress, it clung to her so nicely, around her thin, well toned middle, her silky spine and her breasts – which were bathed in the evening light, which cast shadows over them every time she moved to play a different octave. He found that he liked the tightness of the dress over her bust. He was truly in heaven with her incredible playing and incredible beauty, her porcelain skin, her heart shaped face, her soft, glossy dark chocolate curls and her eyes – her stunning eyes, the colour of expensive, deep sapphire.

"Please don't comment – I should have picked another piece," begged Ella when Richard moved over to her to watch her play.

"Your playing is amazing, if you're doing anything wrong then keep doing it," he encouraged. "So, _Ella-Rosé?_" he asked a little mockingly, as she blushed.

"Family name," she replied, shrugging lightly. "I always just go by 'Ella'," she added.

"I was under the impression your name was just Ella, that's what Will told me, anyway," he replied, as Ella frowned a little.

"Your cousin is watching us," she pointed out, as Richard hazarded a glance over to Wilhelm.

"He's watching you, probably transfixed by your beauty and wonderful playing," he teased her a little. "You looked surprised to see him," he pointed out.

"I didn't know he would be here," she replied, shrugging a little as her left hand moved down an octave and her right lightly caressed a C chord.

"I would have thought he'd told you," threw in Richard.

"We aren't in contact with each other," explained Ella, much to Richard's surprise. "Hmm, I'm in the last movement, what should I play next?" she asked him, arching a grin.

"Don't ask me, my music tastes extend only to Meatloaf and the Beatles," he replied laughingly. "I like your music though, and I listen to a bit of Darcy's stuff," he admitted.

"What are you discussing?" cried Lady Catherine suddenly.

"Music, Lady Catherine, our tastes in Music," called out Richard, shaking his head slightly. He was about to begin speaking again when Lady Catherine demanded that he come speak with her.

"Sorry about that, I'll be back soon," he promised, strolling over to the woman.

Just as the piece ended, Darcy strolled over to Ella by the piano.

"Haven't you realised that I'm too strong-willed to let your presence unnerve me?" she teased him, arching a smile.

"I know all to well that there is _nothing_ anyone can do to unnerve you," he responded with a soft smile. "Your playing was excellent, but I always recognised that song in four four timing," he commented, as she shrugged. "You made it sound better, though," he added.

"What shall I play next, then?" she asked him.

"Whatever your heart desires," he replied, as she turned back to the piano, and began to play a piece by the composer Keith Jarrett. "So, do you plan to see if you can frighten me?" she asked him teasingly, as he shrugged.

"As I said earlier, I've learnt that there isn't a thing I could do to frighten you," he replied. "Any attempts I make will only increase your bravery," he added, as she grinned.

"You paint a very pretty picture of me, but I would hope that you haven't discovered all my secrets," she said, moving up an octave, bringing her closer to Darcy.

"Well, I know you well enough to say that I know some," he replied. "And I'm always willing to learn more," he added with a teasing smile.

"I have to keep some of my mystery close to me, Darcy," she added, as he laughed softly.

"Yes, I would expect no less," he responded, just as Richard joined them once again.

"So, how was my _dear_ cousin's behaviour in London?" Richard questioned, leaning on the piano.

"Horrible," replied Ella. "He had all the sociability of a hermit crab," she teased him. "I went to an engagement party for my cousin, and all he did was wander around the sides of the room, he only danced one dance," she continued, arching a cheeky grin.

"I didn't know anyone there," defended Darcy.

"I'm sorry, I forgot that parties are no place to meet new people, how silly of me," she said a little mockingly, as Richard laughed.

"Will, she's even more enchanting that you described!" he said heartily, as Darcy blushed. "It's good to see that he hasn't changed, in all my years of knowing him," he added.

"I don't have the people skills to be able to meet new people easily, if I can't pick up on their ways of conversation and their manners then I don't like to join in, it saves embarrassment," Darcy said calmly.

"This is the moment to wonder why a man of the world, with an interesting career, with a good education and an exceptional amount of intelligence couldn't start a conversation with someone new," said Ella aloud, seemingly to no one.

"You don't need to ask him that question, because I know the answer," said Richard. "He's really a very lazy man, he can't be bothered to make the effort when people are falling over themselves to meet him," he explained.

"I'm not lazy, I just don't know what they like or dislike, I don't know anything about them," threw in Darcy, feeling that this little battle was quite unfair.

"That's part of the thrill of meeting new people," said Ella, finishing her piece as Richard was called away again. "Well, I'm once more at a loss of what to play," she said, staring down at the keys.

"I don't perform to strangers," said Darcy. "I never have, and I don't think I will in the near future," he added, lowering his voice and leaning a little closer to her, his eyes flickering over her features. "You yourself don't perform either, in your own ways," he added, giving her a secretive smile, and turning away, back to his seat where Lady Catherine initiated a new conversation with him.

Ella frowned slightly. She had the distinct feeling that even though she knew not what he had said, he had won the battle.

"You will come over at eleven o'clock tomorrow," ordered Lady Catherine, as Ella, Charlotte and Billy were preparing to head home. "Anne has informed me that she feels like some sport, so she needs competitors," she stated. "Of course, your Ladyship," replied Billy in his drawling tones, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Mrs Collins, Miss Bennette," acknowledged Lady Catherine, as the two gave a small curtsy, Ella's a little more mocking than Charlotte's.

"Jeez, did the aliens forget to remove her anal probe?" asked Ella sarcastically, when they were getting into Billy's car.

"Ella!" scowled Billy. "She is a very powerful woman, you would do well to listen to her," he snapped.

"Whatever Billy, I wore a dress for this woman, I don't think I'm going to play crocket with her," she replied.

"Ella, _please_, this means a lot to Billy," whispered Charlotte, as Ella sighed.

"We'll have to go shopping earlier tomorrow, I need a dress or two to get through the next few weeks," she sighed miserably, as Charlotte beamed.

"Thank you Ellie!" she cried, hugging her friend.

The next morning, after some early shopping, Charlotte, Ella and Billy arrived at Rosings prepared for a day of 'sport'. Charlotte was wearing her brand new tennis uniform, Billy some board shorts and a tee-shirt, and Ella wore white shorts and a small white tank top with white lace up Sportsgirl volleys. Not much of her body was covered, but since it was a hot day she really didn't give a damn. The weather was heating up considerably in anticipation of the summer, and the sun had been particularly evil that morning.

Ella noted that Darcy, of all men, looked very attractive. He wore a tee-shirt and three quarter length pants, the least stuffy outfit she had ever seen him wear. Darcy had very similar thoughts when he saw her.

"It would be very improper for me to throw her against a wall and take off her clothes with my teeth, couldn't it," commented Darcy calmly to Richard, who just gaped, and stared at his cousin.

"Will! You have a libido!" he cried in shock, as his cousin scowled. "I say go for it, shag her in the sauna room," he suggested, as Darcy rolled his eyes.

"You don't 'shag' a woman like Ella, you _make love_ to a woman like Ella," he corrected. "Shagging is what _you_ do," he added, before he walked up to the ladies.

"Ella, Darcy looks like he wants to do something very naughty with you," Charlotte whispered to Ella, who turned, and glanced over at the two men, who were admiring her openly. She gave a small 'oh _please_' smirk, knowing full well the effect she had on them and rolled her eyes, before she tied her curls up with her hair tie.

"Ladies," greeted Darcy a few minutes later, strolling over to the two. Charlotte, who Ella knew had always had a soft spot for Darcy blushed and almost giggled. "Richard and I were discussing it, and it was decided that I would be the one to tell you that you seem to be missing half of your clothing," he said to Ella, who scoffed.

"The French have very different ideals on what is nudity to the English, may I remind you," she countered.

"I just adore Europeans," said Richard, who joined them just in time to hear Ella's response. "Up for some sport?" he asked Ella, who shrugged.

"Depends what the game is," she shrugged.

"Well, Will and I want to make the game a little more interesting," said Richard, as Ella cocked an eyebrow.

"How so?" she questioned, placing her hands on her hips.

"Well, today we'll be playing tennis, badminton, crocket and polo, that's four games," he said. "Even though we'll all be playing different people, there are two teams. Will, Anne and I, and Charlotte, Billy and you," he explained. "The team that wins the most out of the four games wins whatever prize they want, within reason," he said.

"And what, pray tell, do you define as 'reason'?" Ella questioned.

"Will had a _wonderful_ idea earlier, why don't you tell Ella?" Richard asked his cousin teasingly, who suddenly blanched.

"A moment, please," he said to the ladies, and to Billy, who had just joined, before he grabbed Richards arm and led him away. They both returned a moment later, Richard red in the face and Darcy looking very smug.

"Sorry Ella," Richard muttered glumly.

"If we win, we want… we want you to tell your Aunt that you're both gay," said Ella suddenly.

"_What_?" cried Darcy, reeling back. "No way, _nuh-uh,_ not under pain of _death_," he said firmly. "How about a car? I could get you any car you want, a Mercedes, a BMW, a Jaguar, what about a diamond necklace? Or shoes. All girls love shoes. I'll buy you a shoe store," said Darcy hurriedly, as Ella laughed.

"Fine, how about losers pay for dinner?" she suggested.

"Easy," said Richard, grinning. "Oh look – here comes Anne," he said, as the impeccably dressed girl rushed out.

"Quick, she's watching _Bold and the Beautiful_," Anne hissed, as they all rushed to the tennis courts. There were three courts, and so they split up. Charlotte was competing against Anne, Billy against Darcy, and Ella against Richard.

"How did you get so good at this?" Ella questioned Richard, after she found she was loosing sorely. She never had the aptitude for tennis.

"Practise, mainly," replied Richard, before he served. "Game, set, and match," he said proudly, when she missed it by a mile. "Come on, let's see how the others are doing," he suggested, as an irritated Ella threw down her racket and followed Richard to the next courts. Charlotte was looking miserable, Anne had a proud grin.

"She beat the pants off of me about ten minutes ago," Charlotte sighed, as Ella laughed.

"It's probably something in the water here, Richard is your regular… well… I don't know anyone who plays tennis," she laughed.

"Billy is being throttled as well, just take a look," said Anne, as all attention went to the game beside them.

Billy was sweating like a pig, and Darcy had only a bit of perspiration. He was indeed throttling Billy, he looked like a pro. Ella looked him over appreciatively. He was more muscular than she had originally noticed, and his shirt certainly showed that off. He glanced over, as saw that everyone was watching, and gave a small nod, before he slammed back Billy's serve and declared game, set and match.

"Wow," muttered Ella impressively. "You're _really_ good," she praised, when Darcy walked up to her whilst Charlotte comforted an ashamed Billy.

"I don't like watching sport, but I like to play it," he replied. "How about you?" he asked her.

"I jog, mostly, and I play some soccer and I have a horse back in France," she answered. "I used to do gymnastics and dancing as well," she added.

"You look like a dancer," said Darcy, as Ella cocked an eyebrow.

"How so?" she questioned, as he blushed.

"You – you're – you're _tiny_, you know?" he offered, as Ella frowned.

"So either I'm just short, or I'm an Elton John song," she said blankly, as the redness rose even more to his cheeks.

"You – you're, you're fit, you know, and you're – well, you look – "he stammered. "Flexible, you look flexible," he said finally, as Ella laughed.

"I think I'll take that as a compliment," she muttered, shaking her head playfully, before she followed the others down to the badminton courts. There was only one court, but Billy, Charlotte, Richard and Anne agreed to play on the tennis courts, Billy too ashamed to try his luck with Darcy again.

"You ready?" Darcy asked her, holding up the shuttlecock, preparing to hit.

"As I'll ever be," replied Ella, spinning her racket in her hands. Much to her surprise, she found that she was excellent at badminton, when she had never played it before.

"You're good," said Darcy, five points behind as he prepared for another serve.

"The closest thing I've ever played compared to this is ping pong," she said, as Darcy laughed, and they continued to play.

In the end it was close, but Ella won by three points before they headed over to the others.

"Ella! I actually won!" cried Charlotte excitedly, rushing up to meet her best friend. "Did you win too? This is great! One all to each team, if we win the next two then we've won for sure!" she added happily.

"Not likely, next is crocket," sighed Ella. "I _don't_ to crocket," she added.

"Don't worry, how hard can it be?" asked Billy, even though he had been beaten once more by Richard.

Half an hour later, they were just seeing how hard it was. Team RAW (Richard, Anne and Will) was fantastic at crocket, but team BEC (Billy, Ella and Charlotte) was dreadful. Ella was having a lot of trouble, every time she hit the ball it went in a completely separate direction to the one she wanted.

"This is hopeless!" she cried miserably, as Darcy approached her.

"Its easy, but you're standing wrong," he informed her, taking her over to the ball. "Now, grip the mallet right _here_," he said, arranging her hands on the club. "It's a bit like golf," he said, but Ella just scoffed.

"I'd rather watch paint dry," she said sarcastically, as Wilhelm rolled his eyes.

"Alright, just –" he began, standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her to help her hold the mallet. He could feel her backside against the front of his pants and it was driving him mad. Her body felt so lithe and small against his own, but despite it, he felt incredibly warm, and it wasn't because of the hot sun. "You have to curve your back a bit less," he said, with one hand pushing against her stomach to lean her a bit more straight, and a further into him. "Legs at shoulder width apart," he ordered, his hand sliding down to her left thigh to push it further away from her right one, before letting go of her, and pushing her shoulders back. "Grip the mallet the way I told you," he ordered, as she arranged her hands. "And now, go for your life," he said finally, as she tapped the ball, and it went right through the white arch.

"I did it!" Ella cried joyfully. "Charlotte, I did it! I got it in the thingo!" she said happily, jumping up in excitement. "I am the crocket _God_!" she cried, much to the amusement of the others.

Despite Ella's claims, they still lost. The only event left was Polo, and they had to win it to at least tie with team RAW.

They were lucky, because at the beginning of the game, Wilhelm was of little to no use, after his encounter with Ella. Even more luckily, Ella was great at Polo. She was a fantastic horse rider, and was showing off a bit to be frank. Her skill made up for the lack in Billy, who was almost falling off his horse, but Charlotte, who was a horse rider was fairing quite well. No one on team BEC understood the rules properly of Polo, but they were fairing quite well all the same. Ella naively began the game by asking whether or not Polo was 'just like gold, 'cept with a horse?', but that certainly did nothing to impede their victory.

So, about an hour later, Richard declared defeat, surrendering before they could be beaten too badly. They all rode their horses back to the stables, Wilhelm quick to assist Ella off hers.

"I'm fine!" she insisted, although the horse was about ten times her size.

"You needed to stand on a fence to get on, it's a long way to the ground," he insisted, as she practically growled, and moved her leg over the seat, sitting side saddle before she slid in Darcy's arms, his hands below her arms to carry her to the ground in safety.

"I could have gotten down myself, you know," she insisted bitterly, taking off her helmet.

"I know," said Darcy, grinning, but his voice suggested he was just humouring her.

"I could have!" she cried, as Darcy rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to tell me, I know," he said in the tone one would speak with to a child, as Ella muttered under her breath in Arabic about the stupidity of men.

"So what do we do now?" Richard questioned, as they were walking back from the stables.

"We need a tie breaker game," said Anne. She was surprisingly resilient, despite her foster mother's constant worrying.

"We could play touch football," suggested Charlotte.

"Brilliant!" cried Ella. "It's like football, or – I think you call it rugby or NRL or something stupid like that here," she said. "You use one of those brown, funny shaped balls with the laces, not a football," she began. "The aim is to get it pass a line before you're tagged by another player, you pass and defend to get it there," she added.

"We know it," said Richard. "I've got a ball in my room, I'll go get it," he said, jogging up to the house. Ella and Anne set up markers; Ella's shoes (she had decided to take them off to play on the lawn) marked where team BEC had to get the ball past, and shuttlecock and a tennis ball was assigned for the other team.

"You ready?" asked Ella, when Richard returned. "Alright, we start off with the ball because we beat you in polo," said Ella, as Richard reluctantly gave the ball over. Billy started; he dropped it and rolled it under his foot to Charlotte, who started her dash down the field. Before she could get anywhere, however, Anne's hand pulled back on her shoulder, and she passed the ball over.

Richard was the one to run down the field, he passed to Darcy, who ducked around Billy and faked to the left, before passing it back to Anne, who got it to Richard just in time to avoid being tagged by Ella, Richard winning the first point.

"Haha!" cried Richard. "One done, nine points to go!" he cried, before giving the ball to Ella. She started her run by passing to Charlotte, who passed to Billy, who tripped, and just managed to get the ball to Ella before it hit the ground, before she practically leaped over Anne and fell past her line.

"I think that's one all," said Ella confidently, handing the ball to Anne. Billy tagged Anne in the next run, Charlotte scored the next point for team BEC before Darcy got another for team RAW.

Richard put the score up to three RAW, two BEC by collapsing into his marker, insisting that it was in. Charlotte tripped trying to tag him in his next run, and whilst he was turned to see if she was all right, Ella tapped him, and took the ball, scoring the next point for BEC.

Darcy intercepted a pass from Charlotte to Ella, passed to Richard, Richard's pass to Anne was intercepted by Charlotte and then Anne intercepted Charlotte pass to Billy, before she got RAW the next point.

The next four points were neck and neck, but RAW was still ahead six to five. Richard tackled Charlotte first, and that's when the game started to get serious. Anne certainly packed a punch and a half when she collided with Ella, before she took the ball and scored another point for RAW.

Ella tackled Richard, Darcy intercepted her pass but Charlotte got the ball back and passed to Billy, who was standing behind the line, and gratefully accepted the next point for BEC. RAW started off with the ball next, Richard kicking it down field to Darcy, who got the ball in easily.

"We need to step this up a bit," hissed Ella to her teammates. "We're behind by two points, and they need only two more to win," she pointed out.

Billy dropped the ball to Charlotte, who faked back to Billy, passed to Ella, who made a dash for the line. Just before she was about to pass, Darcy crash tackled her to the ground.

"Christ sake Darce, she's only _small_, you could have killed her," cried Richard, who took the ball.

"I may be little but I'm no invalid," snapped Ella, brushing down herself.

"Are you okay?" Darcy asked her, helping her up.

"How tall are you?" she asked Darcy curiously, as he shrugged.

"I dunno, six foot something," he replied.

"How much do you weigh?" she questioned, as he shrugged again. "Because I'm five foot four, and I weigh a bit under fifty kilos, which is like… a hundred pounds or something, I think, to you," she said.

"I weigh… I dunno, I think it was eighty kilos, ninety maybe," muttered Darcy, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, about two of me," she said, brushing more dirt off her, and straightening her shirt. "So next time, try _not_ to kill me," she advised, before jogging down to the other end of the field.

"We'll give you a penalty point for that, since you need it so badly," called out Richard, to which Ella replied with a rude finger gesture.

BEC one the next point as well, Billy faked to Ella and passed it to Charlotte, who kicked it into the marker, bringing them up to even points. The next one went to BEC as well, much to RAW's embarrassment, because BEC needed only one more point to win.

Richard had the ball. Pass to Anne, who kicked it to Darcy, who was running, running, and then BAM, Ella collided with him.

"Hmm, I think I may have hurt him," she said casually, sitting up, the ball lying a few feet away. "Either than or he's doing a boy-band impersonation," she commented, as Richard laughed to see his cousin, who had been hit in the nether-regions.

"You okay Darce?" he asked to his cousin.

"Suck it up princess, I'm half your size," said Ella.

"I'm okay," said Darcy, a little higher than usual. "I was going to adopt, anyway," he muttered, sitting up, still a bit bent over, still clutching his wounded area. "Fucking _hell_," he swore.

"Oh come of it, you practically crushed me," said Ella.

"Yeah, but you don't have external reproductive organs," gasped Darcy.

"Neither do you, anymore," she replied, earning her a scowl.

"If I'm mauled and suddenly Jewish, I'll have you to blame," he informed her, as she laughed.

"What happened? Ella, did he tackle you again?" asked Charlotte, rushing over.

"Ella just performed a free sex change for Darcy," said Richard jokingly.

"Darcy is upset because my knee _might_ have collided with his goods," said Ella playfully.

"If that's a might be then I'd hate to see a full frontal attack," growled Darcy.

"Well I'm certainly not kissing it better, I'm afraid, you'll have to get Richard for that," said Ella breezily, standing, and preparing to walk away, before she was thrown to the ground. "HELP!" she cried beneath Darcy and Richard. "Help!" she gasped. "Fuck Richard, you're even heavier than Darcy!" she choked out.

"You'll crush her!" cried Anne.

"Take it back," ordered Richard.

"Never!" squealed Ella, running out of air with all the pressure on top of her. "Can't… _breathe_…" she gasped out.

"Take it back," repeated Richard, a little more forcibly.

"Get off her! She's turning blue!" cried Charlotte. Begrudgingly, Richard and Darcy shifted, as Ella spluttered for air.

"I think you broke a rib!" she growled, when she had been sitting still for a minute or two, just breathing heavily. "Damn you, did I not stress this enough? I weigh _a hundred pounds_, I just had the weight of a small elephant sitting on top of me!" she cried, sitting up slowly.

"What was that you said earlier? 'Suck it up, Princess'?" said Darcy, getting up. "We get a penalty point," he insisted.

"Whatever, I think you broke my boobs," snapped Ella, getting up. "You wait till I see you on the street, buddy," she added.

"Its nine all, this is the decider," said Billy. All assembled, RAW started out with the ball. Richard passed to Anne, Anne kicked to Darcy, Ella intercepted Darcy's pass to Richard, Ella passed to Charlotte, Charlotte to Billy, Billy to Ella and Ella run past the marker before Anne could catch up on her.

"WE WON!" cried Charlotte, jumping up and down excitedly Billy, who wore an ecstatic grin. "Haha – you have to buy us dinner!" she cried in a singsong voice.

"Suck on _that_ Princess!" Ella cried, doing a cartwheel. She laughed and did a one handed cartwheel into a round-off, finishing it up with a couple of bend overs and a triumphant grin. Darcy watched in awe, _very _appreciative of the sight.

Dinner was filled with more gloating. Darcy was glancing over at Ella whenever he could, his eyes tracing her form as he watched her move and laugh and eat.

Ella did notice that he was staring at her a little bit too much. She was very annoyed. He was acting so strangely! One moment he was a stuck up prick, and the next he could actually laugh. But she was still sick of him, sick of the sight of him, sick of him for always turning up wherever she was. He was like his Aunt, mixed with chauvinism and obnoxiousness. Did he understand that she hated him?

**A/N: Sooo… tell me what you think! Please! I've been working on Ella's character, I like her better in this one :D Please review, I have three more chapters on my computer (yeah… REALLY slow day today) so it might make me update faster :D This is probably my favourite chapter out of all that I've written, so I hope you like it too :D**


	18. Tea and Etiquette

A/N: Yes, there will be swearing

**A/N: Last chapter I accidentally referred to Richard as Darcy's cousin, NOT TRUE, and also, Ella was supposed to ask if Polo was like golf, except on a horse, not 'gold'.**

**Hannah – Sorry, I'm a bit of an anime addict :S I promise to tone it done, I swear :D But the Hello Kitty hair clips were why Darcy originally perceived Ella as being childish, that's why he wasn't as interested.**

**Ren1983 – Sorry, I was born in Australia and raised by French parents, I always referred to it as 'soccer', not football :S Sorry 'bout that. Richard stayed behind in Kent with Darcy, that's explained later on though. And yeah, I know that Ella wouldn't really be seen as a nobody, but a lot of old families in Europe (not all, I admit) don't care if you have money, they care about how long your family have had it. Thank you so much for the constructive comments :D**

**MAB35 – I know a lot of men who are fussy about people calling them gay, it doesn't mean they are, or that they're homophobic, but that it makes them seem less masculine. And you're right, good noticing, but I **_**did**_** just tack the last bit on from the chapter about the sport and that. I wanted it to look like Ella was **_**trying**_** to hate Darcy, and had to keep reminding herself that she hates him, but I think I could have done it a bit smoother :S And you'll see soon his reaction to learning about her parents. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Disclaimer: Whooooooooo! I own all! (cough, cough) yeah… sure I do…**

"I'm going to go to bed – I'm knackered," Ella declared later that night, when Billy's giant car stopped, and she slid out of the back seat, taking her bag with her. After they had gotten into Billy's 'modest penthouse', she walked through the hall to the second, mostly formal living room, and then on into the guest room she was staying in. She had already had a shower before they went out for dinner, so instead pulled off her jeans and black sweater, and walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a long thin shirt to sleep in.

She sighed. She wanted to be a friend to Charlotte, she didn't want their relationship to be ruined, but it was so hard to talk to her and be there for her when Billy was around, because she simply couldn't stand that man at all. He just made her want to hurt him very badly. She couldn't wait to go home to London, see her new and improved house, and disappear to Marseille with Michelangelo and Jayne.

Stuck on the thought of Jayne, Ella turned on her laptop whilst pulling on a pair of pink boxer shorts and tying her hair back, before washing her face and brushing her teeth. By the time she had finished this routine; her fire-truck red laptop was ready for use, her desktop wallpaper of her three beautiful cousins Wendell, Alice and Sam smiling back at her. She opened google and went to the taskbar, clicking on the address for hotmail. She glanced over the page – her inbox told her she had a new message, so she opened it up immediately.

It was from Jayne, and even though it mentioned little on her emotions, Ella could tell that there was still something wrong with her. It lacked Jane's usual optimism and joy, and even in the photos of Jane and their younger cousins that were sent as attachments her smile was pasted on and weak. She said that Maddie was now officially late, and that the baby was going to be born very soon.

Ella quickly hit reply, and began typing up a responding email, trying to sound bright and happy as she informed Jayne of her experiences in the past three days she had been in Kent. She sent the email, and sighed. Jayne still wasn't happy and she knew it, but she had hoped that by that stage she would be at least a little bit better.

Ella pushed those thoughts from her mind and slid back into bed, throwing the blankets over her and letting her eyes drift shut, she had a feeling she would need all her strength over the next few days.

"Miss Bennette, have you ever attended an academy?" questioned Lady Catherine a few days later, with Charlotte, Billy, Richard, Wilhelm and Anne all assembled in the sitting room, awaiting the tea as Ella walked around the room, looking out of the windows.

"Err… What kind of academy?" Ella questioned, turning around, and pulling a thread from her dress nervously. She was wearing one of the dresses she had purchased to keep Lady Catherine happy, it was white with thin straps, and fell around her body loosely.

"An _etiquette_ academy, of course," replied Lady Catherine haughtily.

"Should I have?" Ella questioned curiously by way of reply.

"Of course! All young ladies must have attended a finishing school," responded Lady Catherine, glaring at Ella. "There are some fine academies in France, your father should have sent you to one before you went to university," she said pointedly. "It is not too late for you, you are still young yet, unless you have made your debut already?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't know people still do that," admitted Ella awkwardly. "Umm… I went to dancing until I was sixteen, and we had some sort of debut-like party, we all wore white dresses and had fans," she informed Lady Catherine.

"You must attend a finishing academy when you have finished school," she practically ordered. "No respectable young lady cannot have attended an academy and have not made a debut," she said haughtily.

Ella was about to make a very sharp and angrily reply along the lines of where Lady Catherine could stick her academies and debuts, before she felt someone pulling on her wrist.

"Please, Miss Bennette, allow us the benefit of some music," said Darcy, silencing her with a glare and leading her to the piano. "Your playing is wonderful. I really enjoyed that DVD of Kipling, Mr Lycos sent me a copy, it came out wonderfully," he praised.

"Wow, you got a copy? I haven't even gotten one yet," Ella muttered.

"I think I have it upstairs, I can get it later, if you want," he replied, full away that it was _definitely_ upstairs. He wondered if he could get Ella to accompany him up there to search for it.

"That sounds good," Ella said, with gritted teeth as she stared back at Lady Catherine and took a seat at the piano.

"She means well, just try and put up with her for a little while longer," Darcy whispered quietly, as Ella took a deep breath.

She kept her eyes on the piano as she played, Darcy sat down on the stool next to her, invading her bubble but he smelt so wonderful. She didn't want to look at Lady Catherine, because she didn't trust her own mouth, but regardless, she was quite distracted. She cheekily started to play a song written by the very man sitting next to her, who laughed. He played too, it seemed that it was also a duet, only he knew the second part, but it sounded fantastic together.

"Come, stop your playing for a moment and have some tea, like _civilised_ people do," Lady Catherine ordered, after scolding the maid for not bringing it earlier. "You will like this tea," she said, turning to Ella. "You may not have had the privilege of drinking such fine beverages in your past," she added condescendingly. Darcy placed a hand on her knee to stop her from commenting once again, and she bit her lip to keep herself silent. Darcy removed his hand a second later than he should have, and took the tea being offered to him.

Ella didn't like the smell of that tea; it made her feel ill. But under Lady Catherine's eyes, she had no option but to swallow it down, even in protest. After a few minutes she had managed to get the cup down, and even though she wanted to object; the maid filled up her cup again. She sent a small, pleading glance to Charlotte, who was talking to Richard with interest on the other side of the room. She glanced around – Billy was talking to Lady Catherine, practically sitting at her feet, but the great lady was staring at Ella, trying to make sure she experienced the expensive, disgusting tea.

Taking another mouthful, Ella was sure that if she endured anymore she would be violently ill. She shakily put her teacup down, and raised her hand to her head in a pained expression.

"Are you alright?" Wilhelm, whispered to her, but Ella only shook her head, which was by this stage throbbing. She felt sick to the stomach, and tears were slipping from her eyes, she was very pale, and for some reason her neck felt itchy.

"Miss Bennette, are you quite alright?" snapped Lady Catherine, as if Ella feeling unwell in her presence was doing her injury or harm. "Perhaps you should drink more tea," she advised.

"Ella, are you allergic to anything?" Wilhelm asked her suddenly. She shook her head.

"Umm, I don't feel that great," Ella muttered.

"Nonsense! Everyone else has drunk this tea and is fine!" Insisted Lady Catherine, looking around.

"Did _you_ try some of it?" Darcy questioned his Aunt suddenly.

"I don't drink tea in the afternoons," she snapped.

"I don't think anyone else drunk it at all, Aunt," Darcy replied, pulling Ella closer to him, and smoothing back her hair in her discomfort. In any other situation it would have been completely inappropriate, but it seemed a natural reaction under the circumstances. "I know I didn't, but Ella drunk two cups," he continued.

"This is ridiculous – I just bought this tea from a very fine dealer! It is of top quality! She can_not_ be ill as a result!" cried Lady Catherine stubbornly.

"Fine, she isn't sick because of the tea. But she is _ill_, so she needs to rest," cried Richard from the other side of the room, walking over to Darcy. "Listen; put her in one of the guest rooms, do you need help?" Richard questioned.

"Ella, can you stand?" Darcy questioned her. Ella nodded, her hand clutching her head as she stood, shakily, almost falling back into his arms. It took him all of two seconds to have pulled her up into his arms, to excuse himself, and to walk out of the room.

"Thanks," she muttered, when he pushed open the door of one of the seldom-used guest rooms, and placed her on the bed, with not a little concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"Bleugh…" she groaned. "_Merde_," she replied.

"I told you I speak French," he reminded her pointedly. "You knew that it smelt disgusting, why did you drink it?" he asked her, his tone a mixture of slight desperation and anger.

"Because that crazy she-devil of a woman you call 'Auntie' was watching me with her evil eyes," Ella replied, her eyes fluttering closed as she adjusted herself on top of the bed. "It wouldn't have mattered if I wanted to say anything, every time I tried to open my mouth you stopped me," she muttered. "'Sides – would that stroppy cow have listened?" she questioned pointedly, still looking rather pale, so pale that Darcy could see all the veins under her skin, and dark circles under eyes. Somehow, it didn't make her less attractive to him at all.

"That stroppy cow is my aunt; may I remind you," he pointed out to her, even though he wasn't annoyed by her comment.

"Had she tried to send _you_ to a finishing school yet? And the way she went on about your mum like that the night before, and then my parents. I mean, you know what it's like to lose your mother at a young age, how could you let her say those things?" she questioned, the tears on her face drying.

"She crossed a line. She doesn't know what its like to – to lose someone that you love unconditionally," he said, swallowing. "I know it's not your fault that your parents couldn't take care of you, but that was a little bit more difficult for her to understand," he added.

"You should have let me yell at her. _No one_ uses that tone to me when they're talking about my parents," she snapped. "I can't believe you let her say things like that! Doesn't it annoy you?" she asked.

"Regardless of how I feel, I am her guest, and you are her guest, and whilst we are her guests we have to be respectful," he argued.

"She made me wear a dress," said Ella, as if it was a terrible offence.

"I've seen you wear dresses before," pointed out Darcy.

"Yes, but she _made_ me," replied Ella, her voice getting stronger.

"Maybe she realised that you look nice in a dress," commented Darcy, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Have you ever worn a dress?" she asked him, frowning.

"What? Of course I haven't," he replied, offended.

"Then you don't know what its like. Sure, it's nice to wear them sometimes, but for Christ's sake, _every time I come here_?" she stressed, sitting up.

"Sit back down," ordered Darcy, pushing her back into the bed.

"Honestly man, you're going to go down on her after she's just been sick?" came a teasing voice from the doorway.

"I wasn't going to _go down _on her," snapped Darcy. "I was making sure that she didn't get up, she's ill," he explained, as Richard's eyes twinkled and he walked over to Ella.

"He would have, if I hadn't walked in," he informed Ella, dodging Wilhelm's elbow in his ribs as he sat on the other side of the bed, next to Ella.

"I happen to have respect for women, you dick-head," snapped Wilhelm to his brother-in-law, who only laughed.

"He has a list you know, of all the things a woman should possess," he informed Ella.

"I know, I've heard about half of it," Ella replied, arching a grin.

"Let's see, Wills," began Richard. "She's beautiful, long dark hair, stunning eyes, so you can tick that off," he said, as Ella blushed and Wilhelm scowled. "Intelligent, she can play the piano well, she's well spoken, she speaks two languages," he added.

"Three fluently, actually," threw in Ella. "I can also bluff myself through a few more," she added.

"She's very witty, very charming, in fact, she's got almost everything on that last," pointed out Richard. "Hang on – are you good with children? He wants five," he added, as Darcy's expression furiously embarrassed.

"Are you kidding? Sure, I can look after one for half an hour, but that's just because we have the same interests, in truth I suck with kids," she replied. "Why would you want five of them?" she asked Darcy, frowning slightly.

"You shouldn't talk so much. Do you need some Panadol?" he asked, ignoring the question. He really wanted to beat Richard up.

"I'm feeling better, I think I'm up to facing the dragon again," she replied, slowly rising with the assistance of Richard and Darcy. "Let me walk back in there by myself, whilst I still have a shred of decency," she muttered, walking to the door.

"You stupid fuck," swore Wilhelm, trying to get his brother-in-law in a headlock the moment Ella had left. "You know how I feel about her!" he cried, practically wrestling him.

"Listen, she's completely into you, and I'm married, I'm not going to take your spot," Richard swore. "I only stayed behind so I could keep an eye on you, remember? I could be sitting at home with my lovely wife, watching my children try and kill each other, but instead I'm here, looking after _your_ sorry arse," he commented.

"Just back off, alright?" he commanded, before releasing his brother-in-law, and walking out of the room, a frown prominent on his face. He returned to the room just as they were preparing to go into dinner, Lady Catherine deciding that Ella was well enough to sit up by herself.

"Do you get ill easily, Miss Bennette?" she asked her as they were seated.

"Not normally," she answered. "I normally pull though anything within a matter of time," she added.

"Yes, your personality is very stubborn and strong willed," commented Lady Catherine. Ella was unsure if that was a compliment or censure so kept her mouth shut. "But you cannot depend on that for your whole life. You should see a doctor," she advised pointedly.

"Err… okay," muttered Ella unsurely, not knowing how she should respond by that stage.

"Miss Bennette, I am curious about you," Lady Catherine said as the maids served their dinner. "Do you intend on staying in Kipling for much longer?" she questioned curiously.

"Yes, I think I will," Ella replied. "I have a lot of plans, though. I want to travel, we've seen a lot of places on the road, but I want to see them closer up, and I want to do some more charity work, continue writing, I think I'll always have something to do," she explained.

"And when do you think that marriage and children will come into this little plan of yours?" she asked, as Ella's jaw fell, and if she had been sipping anything she would have spat it out. As it was, all she had consumed was a small portion of some sort of pasta marinara dish and had nothing to spit out in disgust.

"I'm sorry, _what_ did you say?" she questioned, completely aghast, glancing around at the table to see that Charlotte, Billy, Richard and Darcy were all staring at her, seemingly waiting for a reply.

"I respect your desire to work and to be independent, it is one thing to find ones own footing over a year or two in the spotlight, it prepares a woman for life," she responded haughtily. "But it is women's _duties_ to provide a comfortable home and children to a husband, or else the human race will not go any further," she explained pointedly. This time Darcy wasn't near enough to her to give her any warning touches, so Ella replied.

"I hardly think that it is _necessary_ for me to become a homemaker – I doubt I'll ever get married and have children, I would rather find my footing in the spotlight and find my own 'real world'," she said pointedly.

"Are you _serious_? You have no intentions of marrying?" she questioned, seemingly in shock.

"Of course I don't,"

"And why ever not?" Lady Catherine practically screeched.

"Because I don't need a man to live my life," she replied. "And I certainly don't need to marry one,"

"Aunt, I think what Ella means is that she feels perhaps a marriage would take away the independence she is striving for, not that she dislikes the ideal of marriage but that she dislikes constraint," Darcy threw in, as Lacy Catherine's narrowing eyes softened slightly.

"Very well," she replied coolly, before they all returned to their dinner.

"I meant none of what you said and you know it," hissed Ella to Darcy as they left the dining room back into the drawing room for coffee. "Her concept of what a woman's life should be is practically medieval," she snapped, as Darcy rolled his eyes, and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back into the empty dining room.

"She's old fashioned, my Aunt," he began, a little sharply.

"_Very_ old fashioned,"

"I understand that some of the things she says aren't necessarily what you agree with, but in upper-class circles there is still that expectation of women," he explained. "By disrespecting that you're cutting down not only her, but –"

"Shut the _fuck_ up," interrupted Ella. "You agree with her! You agree that a woman should throw away her life to run to the arms of a man!" she cried.

"I'm not about to say that I'm terribly gung-ho about it, but I happen to like that idea," he replied, clearly affronted by her language.

"I can't believe you!" she snapped. "Women don't have to be slaves for men, you know, and it's just sad that people still think they do," she said sharply. Darcy sighed and rubbed his temples, he didn't want to argue; he was tired and was trying to push down the urge to whisk Ella up to his room.

"Fine. We don't agree," he said finally, pushing his hair from his face. "Let's just go inside," he settled, following her back into the drawing room.

"Ella! Come sit with me," said Richard immediately, as soon as she entered the room. Ella smiled beguilingly at him, before she took up his request and took a seat next to him on a chaise lounge. "Are you feeling better?" he asked her with concern.

"Perfectly fine, thanks," she replied, giving a small grin. "I'm very good at bouncing back from these things," she added.

"Yes, I noticed that," commented Richard. "Where did you and my brother-in-law disappear to?" he asked, glancing over at Darcy, who was staring enviously over at the two.

"He seems to think that women should be men's slaves," she replied, rolling her eyes as Richard chuckled.

"Yeah, but that's just the way he was raised," he explained. "I'm a few years older than him you see, and I used to stay over at his place a fair bit," he began. "His mother was a housewife, and she loved it. His father loved having her around the house a lot too, so that's just the way he sees it, it's remarkable that he doesn't just assume that households should be that way, he's more understanding than that," he added.

"You don't need to be making excuses, Richard, I know a lot of guys like that, it just bugs me," she sighed, leaning back on the chaise, as Richard sent a crafty smile to his brother-in-law.

"I hope you won't let one little thing throw you off Darcy, that'd just be silly," commented Richard casually.

"He can't help being medieval in that respect, I suppose," she replied cheekily.

"Hey, you know if you call _him_ old, you're calling me even older," he pointed out, as Ella gave another teasing smile.

"He can't be older than, what, forty?" she asked, as Richard looked aghast.

"He's at a dignified thirty one years of age, and I'm an even _more_ dignified thirty-three," he said pointedly, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

"Wow, that makes you almost eleven years older than me," laughed Ella, as Richard rolled his eyes.

"Really, how horrid," he joked. "How old are you anyway?" he asked her curiously.

"Twenty-three later this year," she answered, as Richard groaned.

"Jeez, you're younger than me _and_ smarter," he said teasingly. "Ah well, my grandfather was fifteen years older than my grandmother and was being constantly outsmarted," he rationalised. "And the gap between Darcy's parents is even bigger," he added, as Ella raised a curious eyebrow.

"How big?" she questioned.

"Err… when they married old Mister Darcy was forty-six, and my aunt was twenty-seven," he answered.

"Wow… almost twenty years, that's impressive," she said appreciatively.

"Yeah, we used to freak Will out all the time by pointing out that his old man was almost sixty when they had my wife Gina, Will's little sister," he laughed.

"Jeez, you must have been a _very_ friendly little boy," teased Ella, her dark eyes twinkling expressively. Richard glanced over at his aunt, who was screeching very loudly to Charlotte on the other end of the room as she showed her the flowers outside of her window, then looked over to Darcy.

"Wasn't I a lovely little boy in our youth, Wills?" he asked, battering his eyelashes and making Ella laugh at his behaviour.

"_You_? Remind me, it _was_ you that took apart your father's '58 Jaguar and hid the pieces in the stable, right?" he asked, as Richard sat back, looking affronted.

"_Me_? No, never, I was a perfect angel, please tell Miss Bennette that," he commanded snootily as Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Don't you dare corrupt her, Richard, she's much more innocent than you are," pointed out Darcy.

"I was just telling her how your Pop knocked your mother up when he was fifty-nine," he replied, as Darcy turned a sickly pale colour. "Still had the fire in him even then, didn't he," he added cheerily.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Darcy muttered.

"Gina would have been conceived in the Winter, wouldn't she?" questioned Richard. "And I know that the year before she came along you were Wintering in that cute little cabin resort in Scotland," he continued, inspecting his nails. "They slept in the room next to you, didn't they?" he questioned curiously, as Darcy looked even paler. "Maybe you heard them in there," he added, before looking back up at his brother-in-law.

"You are a complete and utter bastard," hissed Darcy. "There _is_ a girl sitting right next to you, who _doesn't _want to hear this either," he pointed out, glancing at Ella, who appeared a bit disturbed.

"Wills was conceived in the summer, when it was hot and sticky," said Richard conversationally, as if he was discussing the weather.

"Okay – I _really_ don't need to hear this," said Ella, raising her arms up in surrender as she stood and walked across the room to sit next to Darcy. "I'll sit here if we don't discuss your conception," she said, crossing both her legs and her arms and glaring at Richard.

"You mentioned that you're turning twenty-three later this year, what month?" Richard asked.

"October," she replied.

"That means you were conceived in February, nice and chilly, everyone getting close to fight off the cold," Richard said cheekily.

"Actually, I was born three weeks early, so it was March, your birthday is in March, right Darcy?" she asked, as he nodded.

"So is Richard's – they're only a few days apart," he commented.

"So whilst you boys were at home, opening up your birthday presents, train-sets and whatever, somewhere out there, I was being made," she said coolly, leaning back on the chaise. "See? I'm not nearly as perverted as you, but I did the maths when I was twelve," she said calmly. A silence fell on the two, before Darcy and Richard both started clapping appreciatively.

"Whatever are you clapping for?" questioned Lady Catherine, walking back to the room.

"Err… Miss Bennette just put me in my place, Aunt," explained Richard, smiling charmingly up at his Aunt.

"It's getting late, maybe we should head back," suggested Ella, as Charlotte and Billy stood.

"Thank you for another _excellent _meal, Lady Catherine," praised Billy.

"Yes, it was wonderful, but we should be off," said Charlotte, as they gave their goodbyes.

"I'll walk you to the door," said Darcy, standing and placing a hand on Ella's waist, leading her from the room behind Charlotte and Billy.

"Ah, I think that the _man_ is supposed to do that," said Richard, he too jumping up, and putting his hand on the other side of her waist.

"Right. I know which way the door is," pointed out Ella when they were out of earshot from Lady Catherine. "I mean, if you want to get rid of me so badly…" she trailed off teasingly, as Richard rolled his eyes, and Darcy grabbed Ella's coat.

"Never, in fact, we'd prefer if you stayed here forever," commented Richard smilingly, as Darcy helped her into her coat.

"Unfortunately, I'd much rather not," replied Ella, doing up the buttons on her coat.

"Say, how would you like to go out with us tomorrow? Just to prove to old Darcy here that I can be gallant," suggested Richard. "If you're concerned, we'll ditch him after a few minutes," he added, as Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Competitive much?" asked Ella, grabbing her scarf and wrapping it around her neck; it was a cold night outside.

"There's no need," said Richard. "I'm older than him, taller, more attractive, more charming, and more intelligent, the list goes on," he added cheerily, slapping his brother-in-law on the back.

"You forgot to add the modesty, _and_ the marriage and two children," pointed out Darcy sharply.

"Ah yes, forgot about that," said Richard cheerfully. "Ah well, I tried, I'll leave it to you, old boy," he said, clapping Darcy on the back, before leaving the hallway.

"Thank you for attending tonight, Miss Bennette," Darcy said, returning to his usual stiff nature. "I hope to see you soon," he added, as she nodded, and gave him a small, slightly forced smile.

"I should go, the others are getting in the car," she pointed out.

"Oh! Right," Darcy muttered. "I'll see you soon then," he said finally, taking her slender hand, and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, before returning it to her. She watched with great bemusement as he turned and started down the hall. That man was an enigma.

**A/N: Yeah, I know the getting sick on tea thing is a bit random and all 'woe is me', but I tried this really HORRIBLE tea that my grandmother bought and it made me feel absolutely crp, and it gave me that idea. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	19. Love?

A/N: Several songs are mentioned in this one, none of which are by Kipling or Darcy, obviously

**A/N: Proposal is coming up soon! Several songs are mentioned in this one, none of which are by Kipling or Darcy, obviously. If you want to be terribly awesome and look them up, they are as follows:**

**I'm so Wasted on you – 'Wasted' by Angus and Julia Stone**

**Falling Awake – Gary Jules**

**Wayside – Birds of Tokyo**

**Trust Me – The Fray**

**Hold that Thought – it's not actually the title of the song, I don't think, but it's in a song by this absolutely amazing band called The Million Stars, I think it's called Moth from the Flame, that's where I got the name for Kipling's album from. I suggest you go to the millionstars myspace, you can get to it through James Blunt's, they're in his top eight or top friends or something, I don't know, I don't use myspace /**

**Colourblind – Counting Crows**

**Heart Filled Lines – To Be Juliet's Secret (another amazing band)**

**Disclaimer: Nup, not mine :(**

"You know, Darcy looks at you a lot," Charlotte said conversationally the next night, as they sat on Ella's bed in the guest room, Charlotte plaiting Ella's hair.

"He's probably trying to make me spontaneously combust with just his death glares," she muttered, not paying the most attention as she checked her inbox. A new email from Jayne!

"I don't think so, it's a different look," Charlotte said.

"The one that Billy gives you?" Ella asked, as Charlotte laughed.

"You've been here for a week. You know perfectly well that our marriage isn't what I thought it would be," she said, with slight bitterness. "I think that he's in love with you," she continued.

"He isn't, he hates me," Ella said firmly. "And I hate him. He's rude and arrogant and conceited, and he _did_ screw Gee over, remember?" she continued.

"I don't think that Gee is the guy we thought he was, Ella," Charlotte replied. "He was too smooth. I think he was lying," she said.

"I think that he exaggerated a fair bit, and I wouldn't object to hitting him if I ever see him again, but it makes sense that Darcy ruined his life, he's probably very good at ruining lives by now," she muttered. The email said that Maddie was getting very nervous, the baby _still_ hadn't been born and it was almost a week late.

"Maybe you should give Darcy a chance, he seems to like you a lot," Charlotte suggested.

"Nah, I don't think so," replied Ella. "We don't have much in common. Besides, I don't want him as a friend, because then I'd have to talk to him," she explained, and Charlotte finished the plait.

"All I'm saying is you should be nice to him when he's nice to you," she said, as Ella sighed, and fell back on the bed.

"I'm not interested, Char," she replied. "I dunno, I think I'm going to go out tomorrow," she said thoughtfully, pushing Darcy from her mind. "Kent is actually really nice, I love the scenery," she added.

"Your English is getting much better, you're almost a local now," Charlotte laughed, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"I hope not," she replied. "I may not be here in the morning, I want to go for a really early jog," she informed her friend, who kissed her forehead, bid her goodnight, and left her room.

Ella did indeed get up when it was early. The sun had not yet risen, but there was a soft pink glow that shone light on the endless fields and roads of Kent. She pulled on a pair of grey tracksuit pants and some sneakers, and a simple, tight white V-neck. She selected her jogging playlist and tucked her ipod into her running bra, tied up her hair, and slipped out of the house.

She jogged around the edge of Rosings Park, mostly the grassy fields and along the areas of woodland. The sun had risen, but it still wasn't very bright as she jogged, Bell X1 singing in her ears. She soon found a running path that she was quite fond of, and ran, putting in all of her energy to feel the returning strain in her muscles that let her know she had been exercising.

She ran out of energy eventually. She was a few miles away from the parsonage, in the nature reserve beside Rosings Park. She pulled off her shirt, it was too hot all of a sudden to be wearing that excess clothing, and pulled up the legs of her pants, regretting putting on her baggy grey tracksuit bottoms. She fell down onto the grass, and put her hands beneath her head, closing her eyes as her breathing returned to normal.

She nearly screamed when she felt someone, or something, take one of her headphones out of her ear, and inform her calmly in a deep, velvety English accent lilted with Scottish, that anyone could trip on her if she lay there. She managed to keep her composure, however, as she pulled out her ipod (that was a bit difficult, she didn't want to flash him), put it on pause, and take the headphones from her ears.

"Kindly _don't_ do that, please," she requested coolly, sitting up and glaring at him.

"What were you listening to?" Darcy asked, sitting down and taking the ipod from her. In truth, he just wanted to feel the warmth of the object that had been in such a wonderful place. "Hmm, Angus and Julia Stone," he commented.

"Are made of awesome," Ella said, snatching the ipod back.

"What are you doing?" he asked her curiously.

"I was jogging. You?" she questioned sharply.

"Same here," he replied. "Are you going back to Billy's place now?" he asked her, as she nodded. "May I accompany you?" he asked, as she rolled her eyes.

"Sure," she answered, rising to her feet, even though she didn't really want him to join her. He appreciatively looked over her from behind as she stood.

"Are you going to take your shirt with you?" he asked, glancing back at the garment she had left on the grass.

"Oh yeah," she muttered, picking it up. Darcy looked almost disappointed as she put it back on, covering her perfectly smooth and tones stomach and her glowing breasts, unfortunately hidden by her hot pink running bra. "Are we walking, or jogging?" she asked, as he shrugged.

"Can you keep up with me?" he asked cockily, as she rolled her eyes, and started to run. Not jog, but run. He sensed a challenge, and he followed her. He was very impressed, she was extremely quick, but he had longer legs. It took him a fair amount of time to get in front of her, but when he was, he held his position for a mile, until they approached the front of the building where the Collins' lived. Wilhelm was breathing very hard, and his legs were aching, but he had won. Ella was only just behind him, and she didn't seem puffed at all.

"You probably need to exercise more," she said, as he flashed her a frown.

"Do you want to go get some breakfast?" he asked, still catching his breath.

"I just got back. They have a toaster in there," she replied simply.

"My treat, there's a nice café just down the road," he said, as Ella sighed, rolled her neck and then nodded. There was barely anyone in the café, only workers who had to be up very early. Darcy ordered some sort of ridiculous feast for himself, but Ella only got a cup of tea and two pieces of lemon butter toast. "No wonder you weigh less than fifty kilos, you hardly eat at all!" said Darcy, after she had ordered and they took a seat.

"Nah, normally I don't even eat breakfast. I'm just not hungry in the mornings," she explained. "Remember when I crashed at your place? You made the same comment then," she added.

"So do you just have a cup of coffee and go?" he asked her teasingly, as she shook her head.

"I don't really drink coffee," she shrugged.

"You don't drink _coffee_? How can you not drink coffee?" he asked, clearly shocked.

"Well, I've never tried it," she admitted. "I don't really like the smell, you see," she explained, as Darcy shook his head incredulously.

"Everyone I _know_ drinks coffee," he said in disbelief, just as the waitress arrived with his coffee and her tea. "Here, try some," he insisted, pushing the cup over to her.

"What kind of coffee is it?" she asked curiously.

"Err… coffee," he answered. "With milk and sugar," he informed her. "Just try it, you'll like it, I promise," he assured her, as she breathed deeply, and took a sip.

"It's horrid!" she cried, immediately putting the cup down and sticking her tongue out, like it was burning. She rubbed it with a napkin, making 'bleugh' noises of disgust, trying to be rid of the taste. She grabbed her tea and swallowed it down, sitting back in the booth angrily. "Why would you do that to yourself?" she asked him snappishly.

"It's an acquired taste, I suppose," he replied, taking the coffee and sipping it. "It's not disgusting, it's very nice," he informed her. "Come on, try a bit more," he tried to persuade her, but she only shook her head in disgust.

"Nope. Not a _chance_," she snapped. "I'll stick to my tea," she replied, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Well _that's_ mature," he commented, as she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, my brilliance is wasted on you," she replied, sipping her tea.

"Isn't that one of your songs?" he questioned.

"Huh?" she asked.

"On the Darling EP, you had this song, I can't remember what it was in French, but translated it was 'I'm so wasted on you'," he said, as she frowned slightly.

"You have a good memory," she commented. "Track number five, _London Sessions_ album, 2005," she said quickly.

"That's easy, 'Falling Awake'," he replied. "I wrote it in the back of a movie theatre. The movie was terrible," he informed her. "_Moth From the Flame_, track three," he said.

"'Hold that Thought'," she answered. "I wrote it in the music room of my apartment in Paris, I locked myself in there for eighteen hours and produced five tracks that were going to be on that album," she said proudly.

"What ones?" he asked her curiously.

"The first five. 'Wayside', 'Trust Me', 'Hold that Thought', 'Colour-blind' and 'Heart Filled Lines'," she answered.

"How did you produce all of those songs in eighteen hours? Five songs, that's a lot, and they were all really fantastic tracks," he questioned, as she shrugged.

"I work best under pressure," she replied. "I tore myself away from human society to make music, and it worked. I'd written the lyrics, the piano, the guitar, the bass, the drums, the cello and they keyboards for all of them, they were pretty much ready to record," she explained.

"Would you do it again?" he asked her curiously, as she shrugged.

"I don't think so. It took a lot out of me," she replied.

"But you produced some amazing tracks, 'Hold that Thought' is one of them," he continued, as their food arrived.

"I nearly killed myself! I didn't sleep at all in there, I didn't have any food or anything, I was really lucky that I didn't need to pee because there wasn't a bathroom in there, it's too much strain to put yourself on!" she insisted.

"So what are you doing for the next album then?" he asked her, as she shrugged.

"I don't know. I want it to be a bit more of the electronica stuff, we've decided that after this one we're going to release an acoustic album, so we don't want too many crooning tracks in this one," she explained.

"Why did you call yourself Canterbury Zimmerman?" he asked suddenly, almost startling Ella.

"Do you know how many people ask me that?" she questioned, sighing. "Have you ever heard of a guy called Robert Zimmermann?" she asked him, as he shook his head. "He's a brilliant American songwriter, one of the best that's ever lived. He's produced an absolutely _huge_ body of work, and when I was a little girl, I used to listen to him, and even though he isn't the best of singers, I was completely in awe. He has a power over words that no one else can really compare to," she explained.

"Then why isn't he well known?" Wilhelm asked curiously.

"Oh, he is," she replied, with a secretive smile. "There was this Welsh poet, his name was Dylan Thomas, and he inspired this Robert Zimmermann. So, in respect of the poet, Robert Zimmermann became Bob Dylan," she said finally, unable to keep a straight face.

"Ah… now I get it," laughed Wilhelm. "So you made your name Zimmerman to pay your respects to Bob Dylan," he said thoughtfully. "And why Canterbury?" he questioned.

"Oh, that's easy," she said. "My mother loved smelling nice, but she didn't like to wear perfume. She always wore this talcum powder that smelt like roses and evening primrose oil. I used to cuddle up to her, and when I was four years old it was the best smell in the world. It still is, I suppose," she said thoughtfully. "Anyway, it was called 'Canterbury Rose', and they stopped making around about the same time my mother passed away. I've only got one bottle of it, so I don't wear it. But whenever I feel bad, I like to smell it. It seemed an obvious choice, that and I really like Chaucer's 'Canterbury Tales'," she explained.

Darcy didn't say anything. He silently sipped his coffee and stared out of the window, frowning softly. He had no idea what to say. Ella didn't mind, he had a nice voice, but he normally only opened his mouth to make censure.

"You mentioned a car accident… what happened to your parents?" he asked her suddenly, Ella slightly taken aback.

"Well, we were all in the car," she began. "We were in Paris, we went several times a year, mostly so my mother could shop and my father could see the Louvre," she explained. "We had just come back from dinner at a nice restaurant, and we were heading to Montmarte when this idiot ran a red light," she continued. "Dad swerved to miss him but ended up crashing into another car, and then the first car hit us," she informed him. Darcy watched her speak intently. "I thought I had died. It was terrible in there, we were upside down and almost completely crushed, I could see my parents, and I thought that they were both dead, but they weren't," she said, taking a deep breath. "I was alright, I broke my arm and I got a few scratched and bruises, Dad was paralysed from the waist down and Mum died," she finished.

"So you went to live in London because your father was unable to look after you?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, he tried for a year, he hired a Nanny and did his best, but Social Services took me away," she replied. "They didn't see how a man who couldn't stand up or walk could look after such a – I believe the term was 'free spirit' but that really meant 'brat' like me," she explained. "He had heard of this supposed wonderful long-term treatment in Germany, he wanted to walk again, I think he sort of decided that if he could walk, Mum could come back," she continued. "He wasn't allowed to bring me with him to Germany, so to England I went," she added.

"Did you love your mother?" he asked suddenly, not looking in her eyes.

"Of course I loved her," Ella replied, frowningly. "And that's saying a lot. I could probably list the people I love, or have ever loved on my fingers, so it's a bit of an honour," she informed him.

"Your personality will not allow you to restrict the people you love to a list," he said firmly, as she scowled.

"Sophia Christiana Fleur de Antoinette Bennette, number one," she said, pointing out her thumb. "Jean-Baptiste Wenlock Bennette, two," she continued, sticking out another finger. "Jayne Marie Gardiner, May Eva Gardiner, Malcolm Pierre du Croix, that puts me up to five," she said, counting the people off on her fingers. "Charlotte Louise Lucas Collins, Daniel Ryan Johnson, Wendell James, Alice Marie, Samson Paul, Madeline Erika and Edvard Allen Phillips, which makes that twelve, and… Jacques Samson Bastien Petards," she finished.

"How can you do that? Make a list, a group of people that you love? Don't you love anyone else?" he asked her, slightly in shock.

"Of course I do. But there are very few people whom I _truly_ love, and even fewer of whom I think well. I've listed the people that I love and think well of, or have ever loved and thought well of," she explained.

"Ah. So is there anyone on that list that you don't love right now?" he asked her, as she nodded. "Can I ask whom?" he questioned.

"You can ask, but I won't answer," she replied, before sipping her tea.

"Are you enjoying your stay in Kent?" he asked her, moving away from that topic.

"Apart from the obvious, it's been alright," she replied simply, munching on her toast. "Richard is a funny guy, I enjoyed meeting him," she added.

"He's married to my sister, you know," Darcy reminded her. He felt the familiar stab of jealously grip his heart. He _knew_ that Ella was only teasing, and that she felt the same way about him as he felt about her, but it was still disconcerting.

"Yes, you've been saying that quite a few times," Ella said, laughing slightly.

"And he has two children, they're both thirty months old," he said, as Ella nodded again.

"Yes Darcy, I know," she said patiently, rolling her eyes. "Since you probably want to tell me about them anyway, what are his children like?" she questioned.

"Christian is a bit of a trouble maker, he looks a lot of Richard, but Alexandria is the spitting image of Gina. She likes the colour pink _a lot_," he informed her. "I have a picture of them," he said, pulling out a phone from the pocket of his obviously very expensive running suit. He went through a very expensive looking mobile, Rosings, obviously, to find the pictures. "This is them," he said, showing it to Ella. She saw two gorgeous little blonde headed children, one with warm golden eyes and the other with crystal grey.

"Aw, they're so cute!" she exclaimed, as Darcy grinned proudly.

"Yeah, they're adorable," he replied, putting his phone back.

"I've got pictures of my younger cousins, they're really adorable too," Ella informed him, standing up, and getting her phone out of a back pocket that was seemingly in her underwear. "Yeah, they have pockets," Ella admitted, which Darcy stared curiously at her. "I've just got to turn it on, I didn't bother this morning," she explained, holding down the on switch and waiting for her phone to spring to life. "Ooh, I'm loved," she said.

"How so?"

"I have ten new messages and seven missed calls," she replied brightly. "Hang on – it's Jayne!" she cried, quickly dialling a number. "Jayne! It's me!" she cried, when the phone was answered. "Thank god!" she cried after a minute. "How long?" she asked. "Oh, that's great! Do they have a name yet?" she questioned. "Aw, that's so nice! Already? Okay, I suppose so, but I want you to send me some pictures before you go back in, okay? And call me really soon!" she demanded happily, before she ended the call.

"Who was that?" he asked her curiously.

"My Aunt Maddie has just had a baby girl!" she cried happily. Jayne is about to send me some pictures, but her name is Erin-Grace Phillips," she explained, positively beaming. "I'll show you my other cousins, Erin-Grace's older brothers and sister," she said, moving over in the booth next to Darcy. He stiffened slightly, but then relaxed, enjoying her close proximity. She flicked through the pictures, showing him several. Wendell, the eldest boy, was six years old, and had curly brown hair that looked like a mother's worst nightmare. Samson was the other boy, and he too had a mass of curls, but dark red, and cheeky green eyes.

"Who is this?" Darcy asked, pointing to a little girl, about four years of age, Sam's twin.

"That's Alice," Ella replied.

"She looks like you," Darcy said, glancing up at her again.

"Really? I don't know how, I get my looks from my mother, I'm related to the Phillips through my father's side," she explained.

"No, there's something in her eyes, and her hair is similar to yours too," he commented. "She's going to grow up to be a very pretty girl," he said, as Ella turned back to her phone.

"Oh, Jayne's sent the pictures of Erin!" she cried, opening up the first of ten files that were being sent over. "Isn't she beautiful?" Ella said softly, going through the pictures. They showed a tiny pink baby, her eyes closed tightly, wrapped up in a bright yellow blanket. "I can't believe they called her Erin Grace, how great is that!" she said softly, still looking at the pictures.

"Do you like that name?" Wilhelm asked her, he too looking at the pictures with interest.

"I suggested it to them when we first heard that Maddie was expecting," she explained.

"Any meaning for you?" he questioned curiously, as she shifted back to her seat.

"Not particularly, but Erin Grace was the name of this girl in an old band called Platinum Weird, there's this really sad but sweet story about her, I always liked it, you see," she explained, still going over the pictures. "And I cut my hair like hers too, she's really cool," she added.

"What's the story about?" Darcy asked.

"Well, they say that it was all a publicity stunt, but apparently she and this guy – who later on became the other half of the Eurhythmics – were lovers, and they started a band together, called Platinum Weird," she began. "At first they were going really well, they were probably going to be very famous, but Erin Grace would always disappear for a few days, without a word, and then turn up again with a new song," she continued. "They were about to make it big-time, but Eric Grace disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a demo copy of this song called 'Will you be around?', and no one ever heard anything from her again," she finished.

"Hmm. That's really the sort of thing you want to impart onto a minor?" he asked her teasingly, biting into some of his toast.

"Well she _did_ have really cool hair," Ella said laughingly. "But doesn't it sound great? I always loved that name," she added.

"Then why didn't you save it for when you have children?" he asked her curiously, as she rolled her eyes.

"Not this again, I'm _not _having kids," she insisted. "I'd make a terrible Mum, I don't want to do it," she said firmly.

"You'd be a wonderful mother," Darcy assured her, as she rolled her eyes.

"No, I wouldn't," she replied pointedly. "God, she's so tiny!" she said, still looking lovingly at the pictures on her phone.

"Babies are normally quite small," Darcy said dryly.

"Ha ha ha. I'm in stitches," she said sarcastically. "I should probably get back to the flat, they might actually miss me," Ella said, standing up. "I'll see you later," she said, taking her phone, and leaving. Darcy watched her figure retreat, a familiar feeling of longing overcoming him. It was really getting quite hard to get her out of his system.

**A/N: So we find out a bit more about Ella's history! Whoop! Yay, the mystery is becoming clear! Please, please, please review!**


	20. He WHAT?

A/N: This is a really short chapter

**A/N: This is a really short chapter. You know why? Cos next chapter we see the Darcy's proposal :D This is just setting things up for it, and leaving you all on a slight cliffie.**

**Disclaimer: (sniffle) I own nothing!**

Over the next few weeks, it became a common, and almost expected occurrence that Ella would see Darcy when out on a jog, or a walk. She found it strange, at first, and made it obvious that she enjoyed that particular path, but curiously enough for her, she continued to meet with Darcy. She wouldn't have minded it so much, but he tended to follow her a fair bit, back to Billy and Charlotte's apartment, to the café, even through the woods. He didn't say that much, he mostly liked to ask questions.

Strange questions, though. He often asked her about the marriage between Billy and Charlotte, how she felt about it and that. Ella gave her answers as politely as possible, but he still bothered her to no ends. She was getting tired of Kent, it was too hard to put up with Lady Catherine, Billy _and_ Darcy all at once, but somehow she managed it, mostly by talking to Charlotte and emailing Jayne.

She also dispensed of her troubles through music. She had brought her favourite acoustic guitar with her to Kent, and it had received many a thrashing over the time she was confined there. She needed to get serious about writing some music, she had wanted to start recording before the summer, when she left for Marseille, but as they had to spend so much time breaking May in that was becoming an unrealistic aspiration. Ella shuddered to think that she would have more work to do when she returned to London – the Press Agent was quite serious about wanting her to go on dates for the media.

Richard was in some respects a life saver. She could always count on him for a chat; he was a remarkably friendly man, even though he _was_ friends with Darcy. But it was on one occasion when she was walking in the park with Richard that she realised the gravity of _anyone_ being friends with the man.

"_Four to the floor I was sure, she would be my girl,_

_We'd ran a little world, have a little girl_," sung Ella, oversized headphones covering her ears as she bopped her head to the music.

Richard laughed from behind her; it was interesting to see her so amused.

"This music rocks!" she cried loudly, a lady walking past staring at her curiously.

"May I remind you, Ella, that we're in a public park," pointed out Richard.

"Oh yeah," replied Ella, less loudly this time as she took off the headphones. "This music is really good," she informed him, grinning before she sipped on the straw in her milkshake.

"It's Darcy's ipod, he doesn't know that I borrowed it," Richard explained, shrugging.

"I have to admit – he has excellent taste," Ella replied, going through the playlists. "I've had a good time today," she informed him, flashing him a quick smile. "Haha, he's named his playlists by moods," she laughed, still flicking through Darcy's ipod with curiosity, Richard's smile fading slightly when she looked away from him. He put his hands in his pockets and continued walking behind her.

"Alright then, what moods does he have?" Richard asked her.

"Well, there's the basic ones, 'happy', 'sad', 'energetic', and even 'emo', but then there are ones like 'thoughtful' and 'minimalist'," she laughed. "He's a funny guy," she muttered, going through the last playlist, entitled 'unrequited'. She found the playlist filled with people like Jeff Buckley, Bon Iver, Civil Twilight, Damien Rice and Gary Jules, almost all of the songs about love and how unsuccessful the writer was in their advances. She put on a song called 'Coconut Skins' that interested her.

"He's odd, but… I have to admit he's probably the best guy I've ever had the privilege to meet," he confessed. "I mean, he was the baby of the social circle before Gina came around," he explained. "He was always the little guy, you know? Then he got taller and stronger and grew up more, but he's still just a kid in my eyes," grinned Richard.

"I'm sure he's wonderful," she said, rolling her eyes cheekily as Richard laughed. He was getting the idea that she _did_ feel for Darcy, but only needed a little encouragement.

"He's one of the best guys I have the privilege of knowing," he said earnestly. "I feel like I'm always in debt to him, in one way or another," he added.

"Hmm. I think you're repaid all your debt by simply consenting to be around him for an extended period of time," she countered. "Actually, why _are_ you still at Rosings?" she asked curiously.

"Will wanted to stay, so I did too," Richard replied, shrugging simply.

"Wow, so you're like his pet?" Ella asked teasingly, as Richard rolled his eyes.

"I'm his friend, not his dog," he assured her.

"It's a wonder why he doesn't just get married and have a full-time pet at his disposal," Ella said sarcastically.

"Well… she would be pretty lucky to have him, whoever she might be," he said, with a slightly secretive smile in Ella's direction.

"I doubt it," Ella muttered, but Richard didn't hear.

"He's a bit standoffish, but if you _really_ know him then he's the most loyal person you could ever have as a friend," he explained. "I mean, just before he came to Rosings he was at the rescue of his best friend, Charlie Bingley, who was about to be shanghaied into a marriage with a gold digger," he added, as Ella started.

"What did he do?" she asked quickly, overcome with a sense of alarm.

"Well, it was pretty clear that she was only in it for the money, her mother was _completely_ over the top," he began. "And so he had a word to Charlie, and he was just in time, it seems," he added.

"Did he give any explanation for this?" Ella questioned, no longer walking. She had ripped out the headphones of the ipod and was quite pale, her eyes fixed on Richard.

"He was doing it for the sake of his friend, so that he didn't have to put up with a horrid marriage," explained Richard. "Ella, are you alright?" he asked her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Umm… no, no I'm not," she muttered, handing him the ipod, not meeting his eyes. "I have to go, Richard, but thanks for today, I had fun," she said, and before Richard could make comment, Ella had gone.

**A/N: Yep, we're almost there! Review! Review! Review!**


	21. My Sweetest Downfall

STOP RIGHT THERE

**STOP RIGHT THERE!! READ AUTHORS NOTE! THEN CLICK THE LINK!**

/watch?vyAiHve2JZvU

Or, if that didn't work, paste this into the browser and cut out the spaces

http: / www. youtube. com/ watch ? vyAiHve2JzvU

or, if _that _doesn't work, do a youtube search for 'Regina Spektor' + Samson with lyrics

**This chapter can really only be read to its full potential if you're listening to the right music at the time. I pretty much DEMAND that anyone reading this chapter listens to 'Samson' by Regina Spektor either before, or during their reading. It's an amazing song, her voice is exactly the way I imagined Ella's. It's really important for the feel of this chapter and the way it makes it all work together, besides, it a beautiful song :D That's the one Ella sings in this chapter. Please do it! It'll only make the experiece better!**

**So this is what you've been waiting for – sit back and relax.**

"Ella, Billy and I are going out today, we might not be back till really late, tomorrow morning, maybe," Charlotte said to her friend, as soon as she rushed into the house. "Are you okay?" she questioned delicately; whilst Ella paced nervously in the spare room she had been sleeping in.

"I'm fine, but a bit tired," she mumbled, running a hand through her hair anxiously, her mind racing a million miles a minute. "So you won't be back till late? That's alright, I can cook," she replied, trying to sound chipper.

"Umm – I have to leave now, but… are you alright?" Charlotte questioned. She didn't know what was wrong with her friend, but it must have been something serious to get her so upset.

"You go, Charlotte, I'm quite alright," she replied, smiling softly and hugging her friend.

"Okay then, I'll see you later," she muttered, before walking out of the room, concern not lacking from her facial expression. Ella waited until she heard the front door close and a car drive out of the house before she threw herself on the bed, curling up into a small ball and letting one silent tear leak from her eyes, which had turned a pale shade of crystal blue with grief.

He had… he had ruined Jayne's life… He had destroyed her, her hopes and her future, he had destroyed his best _friend's_ life – he was responsible for so much pain! Ella was the one that held Jayne's hand when she cried herself to sleep every night for Charlie, he had done that to her! Had he never felt the aching pain that one felt when they were separated from the one they love?

It was all too much. It was like a thousand people were screaming important messages in her ears and she just couldn't handle it, it was spinning out of control. She let out an angry cry and pulled herself up from the bed, running a hand through her long brown curls and pulling off her sneakers.

She had a very long, hot bath, but it still didn't wash away any of the feelings that were tightening her stomach so. What could she tell Jayne? How could she face her ever again, knowing that her grief and torment was based on a lie, spun by Darcy for his own sick benefit? She spent a long time underwater, her hair swirling around her naked body, her eyes open and staring at the surface of the water as it rippled softly, every movement causing havoc upon the silvery face of the lavender scented bath water, looking more like a milky sheet pulled across her face than anything else, but when she raised her head to draw air it was all destroyed.

She got out of the bath when the water was cold and her pale skin completely wrinkled. She dried herself quickly and pulled on the first items of clothing she could find, a pair of pink boylegs and a baggy, pale grey shirt with SOKO written across the bust. She dried her hair slowly on the couch, staring out the window with no expression to her face, just drying her curls with a peach coloured bath towel. She was trying her hardest to wrap her mind around it, when her body's instinct was the kill the jerk that had ruined her sister's life.

She sighed bitterly and put the towel down. She headed into the front room – there was a piano there but Billy had ordered her not to touch it, it came with the apartment and he wanted to sell it because he had no musical talent. Ella didn't care. She just needed to play for a little while to get the pain out.

She searched her mind for the saddest song she knew, the saddest song she had ever written, the one that had the most pain and the most heartbreak. She stopped when she recalled the one song that she had never been able to record, because it almost killed her every time that she played it.

It started with a simple chord; she arranged her fingers to make it. B, F#, D#. She didn't hear him approach the half-open door, she didn't see him stare at her through the crack, she didn't feel his gaze on her skin.

"_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first, I loved you first_

_Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth,_

_I have to go, I have to go_

_Your hair was long when we first met…_

_Samson went back to bed_

_Not much hair left on his head_

_He ate a slice of wonder bread_

_And went right back to bed_

_And the history books forgot about us,_

_And the Bible didn't mention us,_

_And the Bible didn't mention us,_

_Not even once…_

_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first, _

_Beneath the stars keep falling on our heads_

_But they're just old light,_

_They're just old light_

_Your hair was long, when we first met…_

_Samson came to my bed,_

_Told me that my hair was red,_

_Told me I was beautiful,_

_And came into my bed_

_Oh I cut his hair myself one night_

_A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light_

_And he told me I had done alright_

_And he kissed me till the morning light_

_The morning light_

_And he kissed me till the morning light_

_Samson went back to bed_

_Not much hair left on his head_

_Ate a slice of wonder bread_

_And went right back to bed_

_Oh we couldn't bring the columns down,_

_Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one_

_And the history books forgot about us,_

_And the Bible didn't mention us,_

_Not even once…_

_You are my sweetest downfall,_

_I loved you first…_"

That song killed Ella. It was so horrible but every feeling that she felt when she played it was only a shadow of the way she had felt at the time. It was to the untrained ear about Samson and Delilah from the Bible, about the love that existed between them, regardless of what had happened. Ella was comparing her love with Jacques to that story, but pointing out the injustice, they weren't going to be remembered for eternity in the Bible, or in history books, but they did have a love. Samson was Jacques' second name – she couldn't even bear to say his first at the time. She started to cry halfway through the song, and so did he, staring at her. It was the saddest song he had ever heard, sad because it still had hope and joy in it but it was crushed completely. He wondered what had happened to someone to make them sing such a sad song.

Ella finished the song, and knelt against the lid of the piano, her hands supporting her head as she wept. Darcy watched her lithe form shudder with sobs, and more than anything he wanted to hold her and make her feel better.

Ella was no longer crying just for Jayne. She was crying for the past few months, for the past four years, for the past nine years, if she was honest. She was crying because she had felt what it was like to have your heart ripped apart, your life turned upside down with the knowledge that things would never be the same, and all she had wanted was to make sure that no one ever felt that way again, no one who she loved. And Jayne, poor, beautiful Jayne had felt that. That killed her more than anything else.

Darcy hadn't realized that he was crying. He felt a tear slip down his cheek and raised his hand to his face – he hadn't cried in many, many years, but he had just seen a part of Ella that was hurt and damaged and broken and most of all, vulnerable. He wiped the tears away and composed himself. He stood in the hall for what could have been half an hour, trying to make sure he was calm.

Ella cried for a fair bit. Then she stopped, washed her face, and made a cup of tea. She was wondering what she could tell Jayne when she heard a knock at the door. She wanted to ignore it, she felt too miserable to get the door, but she did anyway.

"Oh – Darcy," she said, sorely tempted to shut the door again, especially considering the fact that the only pants she was wearing were her boylegs.

"Hi," he greeted, smiling softly, glancing at her appearance.

"Charlotte and Billy are out," she said immediately, with a hint of sharpness.

"That's quite alright," he replied, as she leant against the door, fiddling with the doorknob.

"You could call them, if you wanted, I have Charlotte's mobile number," she informed him, not meeting his eyes. He felt that she looked delightful standing there, her shorts showing off her slender legs, her shirt clinging nicely to the curve of her breasts, and falling down in a baggy mass of material around her waist.

"I came to see you, actually," he replied, a bit too officially, as if he were on state business. "May I come in?" he asked, as she bit her lip softly, and nodded.

"I was making tea… do you want some?" she asked, standing back as he entered. He glanced over her face. He could tell that she had been crying.

"That would be lovely," he replied, with a small smile.

"Oh damn – sorry, just – don't look until I can find where my pants are," she muttered, suddenly recalling that she was only wearing a pair of boyleg shorts. "I said don't look!" she squealed, when she noticed that he hadn't complied to her request.

"You have a tattoo," he stated, as she rolled her eyes.

"Congratulations, Einstein," she said sarcastically.

"Can I have a look at it?" he asked delicately, hopefully. Ella rolled her eyes.

"Fine, you can look at it from there, I'm not moving," she snapped. Darcy's eyes went to the top left hand side of her right thigh, where there was a perfect black heart, a white silhouette of the outline of a sparrow in the middle of it. Beneath there was a small banner, which said something in Latin he couldn't read.

"What does it say?" he asked curiously.

"Lux Tua Vis Mea," she replied simply, as Darcy quirked an eyebrow.

"'Your light is my strength'?" he questioned, as she frowned.

"I didn't know you spoke Latin," she replied, crossing her arms.

"I had to learn at Eton," he replied, as she rolled her eyes.

"I'll go get tea then…" she muttered, walking out of the sitting room. He waited patiently for her till she returned a few minutes later, bearing two mugs in hand and a pair of waist high cuffed denim shorts, ankle socks on her feet. She handed him a mug and took a seat on the armchair, crossing her legs beneath her.

Darcy sipped his tea and watched her closely, she seemed distant, almost as if she didn't care that he had come. He wanted to ask her very much if she had written that song, but he didn't want to tell her he had been eavesdropping.

"You said you wanted to see me," Ella said suddenly. "Any reason?" she asked, trying very, very hard to control her temper.

"Umm… I'm not sure," Darcy replied, suddenly awkward. He fidgeted, and put down his tea, nervously staring at his hands. She hoped that he was going to leave when he stood up quickly, but he only began pacing.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her curiosity and concern interrupting her anger for a moment.

"No! I'm not okay, and I haven't been for months," he snapped instantly. "I – I'm not _like_ this normally, you see," he began, wringing his hands. "I'm not like this at _all_, but you've done something to me, I can't describe it – it's like you've bewitched me," he said hurriedly, walking up and down the length of the room.

"That's right, why is it _always_ the French girl that gets accused of witchcraft?" she asked flippantly. "It's not bloody Harry Potter you know Darcy, you _may_ have been drugged, but I'm not into voodoo," she swore.

"Please just – I need to concentrate for a minute," he said, running a nervous hand through his hair. Ella rolled her eyes and sat back on the couch, crossing her arms and folding her legs beneath her. In her mind, she started listing all of the ways in which she could kill _Darcy_ for a change.

"Shall I order pizza, or will this be short?" she asked him, her tone covered with boredom. Darcy gave a frustrated cry as he looked over at her in irritation.

"Please shut that lovely mouth of yours," he snapped, as Ella's eyes flashed angrily.

"Excuse me? Where do you get off telling me to shut my mouth?" she questioned him sharply.

"Ella Bennette – I can think of a million things I would rather your mouth be doing right now than yelling at me, and at the moment, 'shutting' is almost at the top of the list," he said pointedly, as Ella scowled. "Okay – I think I can do this," he muttered quietly, before taking a long, deep breath to calm himself.

"What are you doing?" Ella asked impatiently, as he turned towards her.

It took her a fair amount of time to realize that he was kissing her, but when she did – and horror of all horrors, she had kissed him back for a moment – it only took a split second for her to pull back.

"Sorry – I got carried away," Darcy said. "I – you see – these past few months have been horrible, I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do _anything _except think of you," he began. "I tried _so_ hard to get you out of my mind, I just couldn't understand, why you? I mean, you're practically a juvenile, your parents are less than nobodies, your Aunt and cousins are ridiculous, you play in a _band_ for God's sakes, not to mention the fact that you're French," he continued, as Ella blinked in complete shock. What was he rambling about? Why had he kissed her? "It's torture! Even my music is suffering, all because of you!" he cried. "I want to put everything aside – your family, your career, your birth, not to mention my position in society, my rank and my standards – I want only for you to end my agony," he said, his steely silver eyes locking onto hers.

"I – I don't understand… what? What are you –" Ella began with confusion.

"I love you," Darcy said suddenly. He said it quickly, breathlessly, but with more honestly and raw emotion than she had ever seen from him. He swallowed. "I adore you, I need you, I want you; you have no idea what it's been like for me!" he cried.

"I – I –" stammered Ella, edging backwards, further away from him.

"I can't live without you anymore," he said, falling to his knees before her, and taking her tiny hands in his own large ones. "We can go back to Pemberley tonight. I'm sick of Rosings – I know you are, and you'll love Pemberley! I want to try and write music with you, you're my muse, Ella," he said softly, one hand caressing her cheek. "We can be married within a week. 'Lady Ella-Rosé Darcy'. Doesn't that sound nice? Oh Ella, you're _so_ beautiful…" he whispered, his eyes tracing her features. "God, I want you," he continued hurriedly, leaning forwards to capture her lips in a kiss.

Ella turned away quickly, and pressed one tiny foot against his chest, and pushed. He fell backwards as she scrambled off the couch and to the other end of the room.

"I – I'm sorry that you feel that way," Ella said quickly, trying to wrap her head around what was going on. "I didn't mean to – lead you on, or cause you pain, I – I'm terribly, terribly sorry," she said, unable to meet his eyes.

"What are you saying?" Darcy asked, getting up.

"I don't love you! I don't even _like_ you!" Ella cried. "Please – just leave me alone, I don't want to go to Pemberley with you, I don't want to marry you, I just – no. You have to go, you can't stay here," she said quickly, running a hand through her hair. She took a deep, steadying breath. "I am very sorry for everything – this isn't what I wanted," she said finally.

"You aren't mocking me, are you?" Darcy asked sharply, his confusion gone for a moment.

"Actually, I'm rejecting you," Ella informed him. She let her eyes close as she leant her head against the wall, trying to find some sense. Was he joking? Was this a dare?

"Wh – what? _Why_?" Darcy asked immediately, his tone hinting anger to hide the hurt.

"Why shouldn't I reject you? Why did you feel it necessary to insult me, insult my family, insult the life I've chosen for myself?" she asked sharply. "I'm sure all of those reasons you listed that hindered any sort of affection will be very helpful when you're getting over it," she added, her eyes opening again. Darcy looked very, _very_ agitated. "What, has no one ever rejected you before?" she asked, crossing her arms and quirking one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

That hit home. Wilhelm James Nathaniel Darcy was _not_ the kind of man anyone said no to.

"Well then, at least I _now_ know what kind of woman you are!" Darcy cried. "Perhaps if I had harped on about how much I love you and how wonderful you are you would be more inclined to accept!" he snapped angrily.

"Why should I? You probably don't even care about me – you don't love me. You probably just want a quick shag! Why should I say yes to a man who has single-handedly ruined the life of my cousin? You've taken _everything_ away from my best friend, do you know what that feels like?" she asked, tears rising, but she ignored them. "Do you know what it feels like to be taken away from the _one person_ you want to be with by someone else, someone who doesn't know what they're doing?" she asked, stepping forwards, placing her hands on her hips. She wasn't very tall, but she _did_ look rather intimidating. "Wa – waking up _every_ morning knowing that today won't be the day you'll see them again, neither will tomorrow, or the next day, or _ever_," she continued, a tear slipping from her eyes. "You did that to Jayne – I will _never_ forgive you for doing that to her," she said with venom, poking him in the chest and rising to her full height. Her head reached his chin.

"You weren't supposed to know about Jayne," he muttered softly. "Who told you?" he asked, slightly pained.

"It doesn't matter," she replied coolly. "Do you have anything to say in your defence? I want to know _why_ you did that to my best friend – to _your _best friend!" she demanded.

"Because she didn't love him!" Darcy cried. "She was polite and affectionate, but she didn't love him at all, she only wanted his money!" he insisted, one step away from stamping his foot.

"What made you think that she didn't love him?" Ella questioned incredulously. "Of course she loved him! She adored him!" she cried.

"I watched them very carefully. Charles was always very loving, and she reciprocated, to a degree, but there was nothing. Her eyes didn't light up when he came into the room, she didn't go out of her way to make sure he was happy as well as her, she would always go out and spend his money, and your Aunt made her intentions pretty clear," he explained, as a red flush rose on Ella's skin.

"Her _intentions_?" Ella questioned coldly, still glaring.

"She made it _very_ clear to anyone who was around that Jayne was only marrying Charles for money, and she was _proud_ of it! That's one of the reasons why I didn't want to ask you to marry me earlier – your Aunt is simply atrocious," he snapped.

"And what, yours is any better?" Ella asked pointedly. "She is my _family_ – I don't have much of that left, and even though she's annoying as anything and she has all the subtlety of a World War, she really loves Jayne. I don't know why Jayne loves her in return, though, but she does, even though she's an embarrassment!" she practically cried at him.

"Are you kidding?" he questioned with a snort of laughter. "Your entire _family_ is an embarrassment," he snapped. "Your Aunt is a ridiculous vulture, your eldest cousin I'll exclude from this, but that _May_ girl –"

"Don't you _dare_ criticize May in front of me!"

"She's a joke! She wanders around saying terribly stupid things to anyone that talks to her!" Darcy continued. "And don't even get me started on _Lye_ – London's teenage bicycle," he snapped.

"What?" Ella asked with confusion. "What do you mean, 'teenage bicycle'? She isn't a bike!" cried Ella, as Darcy shook his head.

"In English, we have this term for certain people; we call them the town bicycle," he explained.

"What does it mean?" Ella asked, confusion still evident, so adorable that Darcy had to physically restrain himself from kissing her.

"Well, basically it means that they're the town bike – everyone has had a ride, but no one wants to put them in their shed," he explained.

"You mean a prostituée?" she asked, as he nodded. Despite the fact that she was short, she still slapped him. Hard.

"Ouch! I was only saying the truth!" objected Darcy, placing a hand on his red cheek.

"What do my family matter, anyway? _I_ love them – you don't have to," she snapped. "I've made my life, I'm not below you in any respect!" she cried.

"Do you think the fact that you're in a famous band matters at all? My family would probably disown me if I brought home a pop-star and told them that I wanted to marry her!" he cried. "Your family doesn't matter to _me_, but it does to everyone else in the Universe, you come from a middle-class European background, how am I supposed to deal with that?" he questioned.

"_Deal_ with it? There's nothing to _deal_ with!" she snapped.

"You don't _know_ what it's like in the real world, in High Society; there are two groups of people. Those who were born wealthy, and those who made their wealth by themselves. My family is as old and as noble as they get, for Christ's sake – I'm a _Lord_ – intermarriages just _aren't_ done," he explained snappishly.

"I'm sorry, '_intermarriages_'?" she questioned. "I'm not a whole sub-species, you know," she retorted pointedly. "That was the worst proposal I've ever received. Congratulations, you were outdone by _Billy_ _Collins_," she added.

"_Collins_ proposed to you?" Darcy exclaimed. "I'll kill him!" he cried.

"No you won't. You're going to leave me alone. That's _it_," Ella said in a finalising tone.

"So you're saying no to me because I separated your gold-digging cousin from my friend," Darcy stated. "It's not _my_ fault she doesn't love Charles," he snapped.

"I've known Jayne since I was just a baby – and since then, I've only ever seen her say 'I love you' to three people that weren't her immediate family. She _loves_ Charlie, you completely destroyed any hope she had to be with the man she loves," she said with gravity, silencing Darcy. He quietly stared at her.

"I didn't know," he said quietly. "But – but I'm proud of what I did. I should have done it to myself – I should have left London before I became too involved," he added sharply.

"You know what, even if you _hadn't _done that you Jayne, I still would have said no," Ella snapped. "From the first moment I saw you, I knew that you were a bad person. I had my suspicions confirmed by Gee Wickham not long after," she continued, the statement hitting where it hurt.

"Gerard Wickham is a liar, a thief and a criminal," replied Darcy. "I didn't think you were stupid enough to fall for his tricks," he added coolly.

"I'm _not_ stupid; I don't talk to Gee anymore. I admit that he's a creep – but I pity him. He had everything taken away from him, and that's _your_ fault," she cried.

"You take a great deal of interest in that – _man_," Darcy snapped.

"He told me about his troubles, and I listened," Ella replied coolly, stepping backwards as Darcy stepped forwards. He was far too close for her to be comfortable.

"Sure, because his troubles are _so_ important," he said sarcastically.

"That's right, mock him, I don't expect anything else from you," she replied sharply.

"You know, I should thank you," Darcy said suddenly.

"_Thank _me?" Ella questioned.

"Yes, you've explained what a horrible human being I am. Maybe _now_ I can better myself, but I suppose I'll never be good enough for you, I'm not that kind of guy, am I?" he questioned. "Perhaps if I had been very flattering, maybe if I had praised you a bit more, rather than wounding your pride and vanity, you would have been more inclined to consider this rationally," he said, his voice jeering.

"_My _pride? You know what Darcy – it didn't matter how you said it, you couldn't have worded it in any way that would make me accept," she said coolly, her dark blue eyes flashing angrily. "Ever since you opened your mouth, your pride, conceit, _vanity_, your selfish distain for the emotions of everyone around you has made it perfectly clear to me that you are the _last_ person on earth that I could _ever_ marry," she finished as harshly as she could, with more venom than Darcy had thought possible.

That had killed him.

"I'm very sorry for taking up your time," he said softly, unaware of how close they were. His eyes were filled with pain. "I'll see myself out. Goodbye, Ella," he said softly.

Angry, completely in love with her, and in a great deal of pain, he walked away. Ella slid down the wall to crouch on the floor and cried.

**A/N: My favourite line in the entire story is probably the second last one of this chapter. 'Angry, completely in love with her, and in a great deal of pain, he walked away.' If you didn't listen to Samson whilst reading this chapter, go back and read it again with the music! It's important! Please tell me what you think of this chapter, it's often the place where many modern P&P fics slip up and I just hope that I didn't. The aftermath is unfortunately going to be a fair bit of angst, but we find out a lot more about Ella's history.**

**Raye – thank you so much for all of your reviews, the comments have been great. Sorry about the error, he **_**did**_** mean to say 'not ever'. You can call me kid if you want, I don't care lol, besides, I'm only fifteen so chances are you're older than me lol. Thanks for the hints as well, it all helps me become a better writer :D**


	22. and i miss you

If someone had asked Wilhelm Darcy what the feeling he hated worst was, he would answer with a simple 'the way I feel right now'

A/N: If you didn't read the last chapter whilst listening to 'Samson' by Regina Spektor, then go back and do it! This one is the aftermath of the proposal, it's not as long as some of my other chapters, but I hope you like it :D Yes, there will be angst. I suggest you listen to depressing music as you read the next three chapters, there will be less angst in each one, so you can lessen the amount of depressing music as you go :D Soory that I'm making errors about Jayne being Ella's sister, she isn't, but I promise I won't make them anymore :D Whooo, got the results for the exams I was stressing about, I did really good so now I'm all chilled :D

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Sob.**

If someone had asked Wilhelm Darcy what the feeling he hated worst was, he would answer with a simple 'the way I feel right now'.

Darcy angrily pulled open the wardrobe in his room back at Rosings. He pulled the draws out so quickly that he nearly broke them, picking up clothing and throwing it into his open suitcase on the bed. He pulled out shirts and jackets and pants and everything his hands could reach, tossing them in the vague direction of the suitcase. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't.

How could she possibly say no? Didn't she understand that even though she was a world-famous musician, in the eyes of high society she was still middle-class European trash? This was an offer that she shouldn't refuse! Her entire wealth was probably only a very small fraction of what he spent on clothes every year. He could give her everything, absolutely anything that she desired, he had so much to offer, yet she still said no!

_I don't love you… I don't even like you…_

_Why did you feel it necessary to insult me, insult my family, insult the life I've chosen for myself? … _

_You probably don't even care about me – you don't love me. You probably just want a quick shag! … _

_Why should I say yes to a man who has single-handedly ruined the life of my cousin? You've taken everything away from my best friend; do you know what that feels like? _

_Do you know what it feels like to be taken away from the one person you want to be with by someone else, someone who doesn't know what they're doing? _

_Waking up every morning knowing that today won't be the day you'll see them again, neither will tomorrow, or the next day, or ever? _

_You did that to Jayne – I will never forgive you for doing that to her…_

All of her words were swimming around in his head, driving him insane. All he could hear was her voice, strained with anger, and her eyes, burning brightly but still looking so wounded at the same time.

_She loves Charlie, you completely destroyed any hope she had to be with the man she loves…_

Could it be true? Could he have misread all of the signs, could Jayne be in love with Charlie, just as he was in love with her?

_I had my suspicions confirmed by Gee Wickham…_

He gritted his teeth in anger as he contemplated those words. Gee Wickham. Oh how he despised that pathetic excuse for a human being! It was obvious that he was up to his old tricks; Ella was just too intelligent to be pulled into his web. But still, he had to keep her safe.

He felt worse than he had ever felt before. Different emotions were all trying to take over, there was anger, anger at Ella and anger at himself, disbelief that she had _actually_ rejected him, extreme sadness, a complete lack of hope, irritation, hurt, but most painfully of all, underneath everything there was still love.

He still loved Ella. He was angry at her for sure, but he was still completely in love with her. It was ridiculous! He hardly knew her! But even though she had run a dagger through his heart and twisted it for good measure, it still ached for her.

_Ever since you opened your mouth, your pride, conceit, vanity, your selfish distain for the emotions of everyone around you has made it perfectly clear to me that you are the last person on earth that I could ever marry…_

He threw a shoe very hard at the bed, and slid to his knees, coming very close to tears. God, how it tortured him! He ran a hand through his hair and rose to his feet. He needed to write.

_Dear Ella,_

_Please do not tear up this letter. I promise that it's not a trick, and I have no intentions of renewing the offers that made you so horrified. But you accused me of three things of very great gravity, and I only want to address these before you take the time to forget me forever._

_First is the issue of your cousin, Jayne, and my good friend, Charles, or Charlie, as you know him. I don't know what you want me to say, but I apologise. I honestly thought I was doing what was best for my friend. I had seen him fall in and out of love with women for many years, and I didn't want to see him turn his life upside down for a woman that I was certain was only dating him so she could have her picture taken in his magazines. You have informed me that this is not the case, and I apologise for any harm I may have caused in that respect. I only did what I thought was best, in light of the situation. I hope that in time you will come to understand my motives. I apologise profusely if you don't think them sufficient enough, but perhaps had it not been for the behaviour of your youngest cousin, your Aunt, and even on occasion your cousin May, I would have had no problems with the marriage of Jayne and Charles, and no issues with any future hope of happiness I had with you. Neither you nor Jayne is to blame._

_The second of these three accusations is more serious than the matter of Jayne and Charles. I can see no other option than to tell you my entire history with one Gerard Wickham, or 'Gee', as he has now donned, and allow you to make your own conclusions. I do not know what he has told you, but I can assure you that what I write in this letter is true, and I would rather if you kept it to yourself. You can ask Richard to confirm everything, if you don't believe me._

_Gerard Wickham the first was my father's Personal Assistant several years ago, when Darcy International was a new company. Gerard Senior was a very noble and loyal man, and when my father decided to set up a separate office in Lambton, a town quite close to my family estate, he moved to Derbyshire as well. Gerard Junior was a few years older than me, and we didn't get along very well, even though our parents constantly begged us to play together. I was still attending Eton at that stage, but then started school in Scotland, so Gerard and I only saw each other in the holidays. _

_As we grew older, I realised how much of a lose cannon Gerard really was. He started smoking and drinking from a young age, he fell into entirely the wrong crowd, and I wanted nothing to do with him. After the death of my mother, a great weight was put onto my shoulders. My father buried himself in his work for the company, but he took interest in little else. He refused to let me leave school in Scotland so I could be of more help to Gina and my father, so I'm afraid that Gina was quite neglected. In a moment of desperation, I begged Gerard to keep an eye on Gina. I had to pay him, but that wasn't of any concern to me, my only concern was my sister and my father._

_Gerard's parents died not long after my mother, and my father, out of loyalty to Gerard Senior, took custody of Gerard, and he took up residence at Pemberley. After I had graduated from school, I started at Oxford, again too far away from Derbyshire for me to be of any comfort to my family. I knew that Gerard was the last person I wanted to look after Gina, so I personally hired a Nanny for Gina. I no longer had any respect for Gerard, having seen what he had become. He started getting involved in entirely the wrong industries, drug trafficking, and pornography, where he applies his talent for photography. _

_I did not see Gerard for many years after my father's funeral. He passed away when I was twenty-four, and had been working at Darcy International for about two years. My father had disinherited him, and all acquaintance was severed, Gerard choosing to live in California. But he returned to England for the funeral and the reading of the will. I was completely disgusted by his behaviour, and took great satisfaction in knowing that my father had left him nothing, he knew perfectly well that Gerard was not to be trusted._

_I sent Gerard back to California, with a few thousands pounds, completely out of pity. I wished only to be rid of him, and rejoiced when I heard nothing of him for at least four years, when Gina was in her last year of University._

_I had recently hired another caretaker for Gina, the first had decided to retire, and I wished for her to be safe throughout her last year in school. I had no idea that Gerard had come back to England, as I did not concern myself with his movements. He was apparently the cousin of Gina's new caretaker, Eliza Young, and visited to beg her for money. He had called and requested the same thing from me, but I denied him anything, knowing that the money had probably gone to drinking and gambling._

_Gina was in London for her school holidays with Miss Young. The latter had gone to visit her mother for the day, and Gina was at home studying. Miss Young had given Gerard a key, and he used it; sneaking into the apartment I had bought Gina to stay in, as it was closer to her University. Gerard had, on several other occasions, raped young women between the ages of twenty and twenty-three. They were all attractive white females, with a reasonable level of intelligence; he played a game with them. He tried to lure them in, the more intelligent the better, to prove how clever he was. He then raped them, and took pictures, some sort of sick fetish of his. With Gina he spared all of that, and completely overpowered her. _

_I came to her apartment to visit her unannounced. I saw that the door was unlocked and assumed that she was home, so I went in. Gerard had left hours ago, and Miss Young still had not returned. Gina was unconscious, she had been very brutally attacked, and there were almost a hundred Polaroid pictures scattered around the room that Gerard had taken. I will not tell you what they were of._

_Gina was taken to the hospital, it was confirmed that she had been raped, to the point where she was unable to have children as a result. This nearly destroyed Gina, whose dearest wish was to have a family. Gerard was sent to prison, but only for two years, as he escaped on a technicality. This is why I didn't want you to associate with Gerard, because you're the type of woman that he likes to play his games with. I am extremely thankful that you were intelligent enough to realise that he is, as you said, a 'creep'. I do not know what he has told you, but I doubt I ever ruined his life. Given any opportunity I would gladly destroy his entire livelihood, but that is the kind of behaviour that would pull me down to his level. I tell you all of this in honesty._

_Gina has recovered now, thankfully. She and her husband Richard Fitzwilliam, whose family has been close to us for generations found a surrogate mother, and through IVF, were able to have their family. But that doesn't make up for any of the things that Gerard did to her._

_The last, and most serious of accusations you laid upon me was one that you probably said unconsciously. You claimed that I didn't love you at all. This is not true. I probably went about it in the wrong manner, or at least the familiar behaviour of a man who plans to woo you, but I despise lies and betrayal above all. I told you the honest truth, and I hope that you can believe me. In my own understanding, I have done no wrong. Please do not reply to this letter. I can only add this, God bless you. I wish you no ill tidings._

_Yours forever,_

_Wilhelm J. N. Darcy_

Ella's hands trembled as she lowered the beautiful handwritten letter that had been slid under the door of the Collins' apartment. Her eyes ran over statements again and again, sometimes in anger, where he had explained his interference in Jayne's engagement, ('_perhaps had it not been for the behaviour of your youngest cousin, your Aunt, and even on occasion your cousin May, I would have had no problems with the marriage of Jayne and Charles, and no issues with any future hope of happiness I had with you'_), and where he had blatantly stated that in his '_own understanding_' he had '_done no wrong_'. But she nearly banged her head against the wall of her room when she read his account of his past with Gee.

"How _stupid_ have I been?" she questioned miserably.

"Ella? Are you okay? I heard a bang," Charlotte said, pushing open the door. She saw her friend, wearing a pair of baggy pyjamas, hitting her head on the wall, saying something angrily in a language that she had absolutely no understanding of. "What's wrong? Are you sick?" she asked, rushing into the room.

"I wish I were," Ella muttered. "I'm very, _very_ stupid," she said.

"Ella, English, please," Charlotte requested. "Or even French would do, I've been learning," she added.

"I did something silly, Char," she said. "It's okay, I'll be fine," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

"You look pretty pale, and – have you been crying?" Charlotte asked with concern.

"I'm fine! I really am, I can assure you," she replied, with as much cheer in her voice as she could. "Tell me, do you miss London?" she asked, trying to change the subject as she sat on the bed, Charlotte following her.

"Oh, of course I do, but married life is great! I don't have to work now, Billy doesn't want me to, so I can laze around all day, and I hardly have to see him at all, it's wonderful," she answered.

"Good," Ella muttered, staring at her tiny feet. She wasn't listening at all, just running over the letter in her head. Thank goodness he had written it in French, because she didn't think that she had enough control over her head at that point to read anything in English.

"And he enjoys buying me lots of things, he's talking about getting a whole house now, you know," she said, blabbering on. "I mean, this penthouse is so huge! He says that there isn't enough room in here, even though Lady Catherine _did_ purchase it for him," she continued. "And we're going to start trying for children soon too, he said that it's a man's duty in life to improve the next generation," she added happily.

"Wonderful," Ella mumbled, folding her legs beneath her. Guilt was starting to settle in over the top of her anger, smothering and suffocating it.

"You don't look well at all, Ella," Charlotte commented, pressing her hand to her friend's forehead. "You're very warm, perhaps you should have a rest," she suggested.

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired," she replied softly, as Charlotte smiled.

"Get some rest then, and I'll see you in the morning," she said, kissing her forehead, and leaving her room. Ella fell back onto the bed and pulled out the letter again, reading over the contents. A tear leaked out of her eye, but she ignored it as she read.

God, he had put his heart out on the line and she had trampled all over it! He was rude and conceited and vain and proud, and he had ruined Jayne's life, but he hadn't done it in bitterness or with any intention to hurt anyone. And she didn't even _want_ to think about Gee – god, she should have known. And she accused him of ruining _his_ life when his was destroyed by that man.

'_You claimed that I didn't love you at all. This is not true…_'

His words rung in her head. It was so hard to think everything through, but she had a familiar feeling in her stomach. The one you get when something is very, _very_ wrong, and it twists your insides and threatens to suffocate you. Another tear slipped out as her eyes scanned over the words with haste, searching for something, anything that would give her comfort. Something that would help her hate him – it always hurt less when you hated them.

She wanted to talk to someone, but she didn't know who. She and Charlotte couldn't share things anymore; she could no longer trust her not to tell Billy. She couldn't discuss it with Jayne, because that would mean telling her what Darcy had done, and that would hurt her even more. Her father was out of the question, she loved him very much, but he knew nothing of Darcy or of Gee, and it would mean a lot of explaining. She knew who she wanted to talk to, she knew who she wanted to empty her heart to, but she couldn't do it. She wanted to be near him, to have him hold her and kiss away her troubles, because she missed him so very much. But she couldn't.

Instead, Ella pulled out her phone and searched through the phonebook for Malcolm's number.

"Ella?" came a questioning voice when he picked up.

"Hi Malcolm," she said, the tears falling faster now, choking her voice.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong? You sound like your crying!" he responded instantly. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I want to call him, I want to talk to him," she said, crying much harder now. She could barely get her words out.

"You can't call him, Ella," Malcolm said softly. "No contact. Never again," he reminded her. "Why? What's wrong?" he asked.

Ella told him everything. She told him about Darcy, Jayne, the letter, Gee, even about Darcy's sister. It all spilt out and Malcolm listened patiently, soothing her.

"A - and all I want t - to do is call him, I j – j - just want to talk t - to him," she got out finally, pulling her knees up under her chin. "He – he could make it a – all better," she wept.

"No Ella, he can't," Malcolm said softly. "He can't make any of it better, because you can't talk to him, I won't let you," he said firmly. "Besides – I wiped his number from your mobile," he added.

"I memorised it," Ella replied, sniffling slightly.

"I made him change it," Malcolm told her, as she cried a little more.

"Do – do you think that h – he doesn't love me a – anymore?" she asked. "M – maybe he got o – over me," she said.

"I want to tell you that he _has_ gotten over you, that he doesn't love you anymore, but – I still get phone calls from him, asking how you are," Malcolm informed her guiltily.

"W - why didn't you tell me?" Ella cried angrily.

"He hurt you Ella," Malcolm said. "I'm not doing it again. I'm not watching you destroy yourself," he said firmly.

"Then what makes you any different to Darcy?" Ella asked him, her voice stronger.

"Not much. I love you, I care about you, and I want you to be all right. The only difference between him and I is that he loves you differently than I do," he replied.

"So you admit that you're keeping Jacques and me apart for some stupid, unknown reason?" she asked angrily.

"I'm keeping you and Jacques apart because I don't want you to get hurt. Darcy kept Jayne and Charlie apart because he didn't want Charlie to get hurt," stated Malcolm.

"Well Darcy was wrong! And so are you!" she cried, throwing her phone at the ground. It bounced off a couch and hit one of her plushie toys that she had brought up, thankfully not breaking. The battery fell out, however, ending the call between her and Malcolm.

Ella threw herself at her bed, crying angrily and holding the pillow closer to her. She was so _angry_! She wanted Jacques, _only_ him, not Darcy. Why couldn't Jacques write her a beautiful hand-written letter, explaining everything but still wishing her well?

God, it hurt more _then_ than it had ever done before. Everyone was wrong. They didn't know a thing. Darcy, Malcolm, Jayne, none of them knew. None of them understood that three years hadn't changed a thing!

She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face and splashing on the carpet, her body wracking with sobs. It hurt _so_ much to be taken away from the one you love. She angrily hit the ground with clenched fists, it hurt her hand but she didn't care. Something different was in her heart, a feeling that she recognised, but hadn't felt in so long… it was almost like… love? But it wasn't the love of Jacques, she felt that differently, in a different part of her heart, but this was for someone else.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and cried some more. God, it hurt.

**A/N: Don't worry, Jacques will come into the story, but it's going to be a happy ending. I really love the original P&P story, but since it's been modernised on so many occasions I wanted to do something a bit different. No, Jacques didn't cheat on Ella. And yes, I know that Malcolm said 'Never again' when it might have made more sense to say 'No contact. Ever again.', but he was saying I'm 'never again' going through that. Please review!**


	23. Cinderella

"Do you think Jayne would prefer chocolate, or vanilla icing

**A/N: Yay, Jayne comes home! There is cake, and story telling! I like this chapter, actually, so please review, tell me if you like it too :D **

**The song that Darcy sings in this chapter was originally written by a band called Bell X1 when they still had Damien Rice as a member. Damien Rice still sings this song with Jupiter, and it's amazing and beautiful, it's on youtube if you want, but I've fiddled with the lyrics just a tiny little bit. Some of you may recognise this song, it was on an episode of the OC apparently, and the majority of my readers are from the US, and I hear that the show is really big there. Bell X1 no longer have Damien Rice as a member, and this song has slightly different lyrics (I prefer the DR version titled 'Never & Always on my Mind'), and it's called 'Eve, the Apple of my eye'.**

"Do you think Jayne would prefer chocolate, or vanilla icing?" Mrs Gardiner asked nervously, as she stirred the liquid mixture for Jayne's coming home cake with a wooden spoon.

"Strawberry," Ella replied blandly, her chin supported by her hand, her fingers outlining a small pattern in some of the scattered sugar.

"You're right, she always did love strawberries," muttered Fran, as she began to scoop the mixture into the cake tin. "Now did I wrap Erin's present?" she questioned, struggling to remember. The past few days had been a cleaning frenzy, trying to make her home perfect for the arrival of her daughter (who had moved back into her old room for the time being) and her extended family.

"Yep. It's on the coffee table in the lounge-room," Ella replied tonelessly.

"And did you sign the card?" she asked, as she slid the cake tin into the hot oven.

"Yep. And in English, too, mind you," she answered.

"And the guest bathroom is clean, right?"

"It actually sparkles. It's almost like the whole room is covered in glitter."

"Right. I must say, I prefer you when you're quiet," she said, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"What time are they getting here?" she asked, sliding off her stool.

"Four," answered Fran. "Good heavens, it's already one o'clock!" she exclaimed.

"I'll be here at four," Ella said, walking out of the kitchen.

"That's right – abandon me!" Mrs Gardiner cried in response. Ella waved her off, and left the house. She started walking up the road to leave the suburb estate where she had been imprisoned for three years so she could get a taxi on the busier roads.

It had been a month and a half since her little 'break down' at Kent, and since then she hadn't been in the mood for much. She still rehearsed with Kipling and The In Section, but she refused interviews, and she would only do performances for charities. Even then, she was miserable. Both of the bands were concerned about her, but no one said anything. Malcolm had tried talking her around several times, she wasn't speaking to him at all. Her relationship with May was becoming strained, because wherever May went, Malcolm followed, and Ella couldn't stand being around him. She mostly sat at home with Michelangelo, writing music and reading books.

She hailed for a taxi when she reached the main road, and slid into the backseat, giving the driver her address.

"Hey, aren't you Canterbury Zimmermann?" the driver asked when he started down the road, as Ella nodded. "Wow, isn't that just great!" he exclaimed. "Do you mind if I put the radio on, Canterbury?" he questioned.

"Not at all," Ella smiled softly.

The driver switched on the radio, and started flicking through stations. He eventually landed on one that was singing the last half of a James Blunt song that she was fond of, and left it. The song ended after a few minutes, and after a quick advertisement from the radio broadcaster, an all too familiar track started.

"Oh, Darcy! I like this one, have you heard his newest song?" the driver asked her, as she nodded.

"Yep," she muttered, not willing to inform him that she was the reason why the song had been written. It was much more simple compared to the rest of his songs, but it still had the air of complete brilliance about it that all of his music had.

"_You left it, I sent it  
I want it back  
You left it, I sent it  
I want it back_

If I had you here, I'd clip your wings  
Snap you up and leave you sprawling on my pin  
This plan of mine is oh so very lame  
Can't you see the grass is greener where it rains?

You left, I died,  
I saw you cry  
You came, I think,  
But I never really know  
Now I've served my time  
I've watched you climb  
The wrong incline  
But you never really know

Accept it, Don't let it  
Fuck you all

_Accept it; don't let it  
Fuck you all_

_Now this applies both equally to you and I,  
The only thing we share,  
Is the same sky  
These empty metaphors,  
They're all in vain,  
Like 'can't you see the grass is greener where it rains'_

_You left, I died,  
I saw you cry  
You came, I think,  
But I never really know  
Now I've served my time  
I've watched you climb  
The wrong incline  
But you never really know  
_

_You left it, I sent it  
I want it back_

_Accept it; don't let it  
Fuck you all_

_You left, I died,  
I say you cry  
You came, I think,  
But I never really know_

_And I've served my time  
I've watched you climb  
The wrong incline  
But you never really know_

_Never really know…_

_Maybe I didn't hold you, _

_Quite as often as I should_

_And I guess I never told you,_

_Quite as often as I could_

_Little things I should have said and done_

_I just never took the time_

_You were always on my –_

_You were always on my mind_

_Tell me, tell me where to sweep up_

_As you die_

_Just kill me, hear me, kill me_

_What will it take to keep you satisfied?_

'_Cos you'll never let me know_

_You'll never let me know"_

"And that was 'Never and Always on my Mind', the newest song from Darcy," the presenter said when it had finished. "Unfortunately, no news has been released concerning the recording, let alone the release date of his newest album, but we're all waiting with bated breath," they added, before putting on the latest song from Pink.

Ella sighed bitterly and ran a hand through her curly brown locks. She just wanted to go home and curl up in her bed.

The taxi made it to her house in good time, and she let herself in, calling Michelangelo as she went. He bounded up to her and barked happily, his cheeky black eyes sparkling happily.

"Hey baby, I'm home," she said softly, hugging the puppy to her chest. "Aren't you a big boy now? Come on then, let's do some work," she said, kissing his nose and putting him down. She glanced around her apartment, the renovations were finished and she was now used to seeing an extra bedroom diagonal from her own. The feature wall looked very good; it was a pale yellow with white pinstripes and brightened up the rest of the apartment. She had framed some of her original manga drawings and found a great website where she could buy massive prints from all of the Hayao Miyazaki movies, so her walls were adorned with modern looking attractions.

"So Michelangelo, what shall we do now? I think I'll check my emails, how about you?" she asked him, as he gave a happy bark of response. "Okay, I'll put some music on," she laughed, going to her CD player. She pushed in a Maroon 5 album and pressed play, going over to her laptop, and turning it on. She made tea whilst she waited for it to load, and sat down at the table, opening up internet explorer.

She navigated over to her inbox and started going through the mail, deleting spam and reading ones from friends or the record company. She typed in Charity's new email address into her contacts list, and then checked to see that it had made it. She ran through the list, before her eyes caught one that she was sure Malcolm had deleted before.

She bit her lip nervously. She couldn't do it.

She closed the window and stood up, stretching her limbs.

"Do you want a walk, Michelangelo?" she asked her puppy, who barked as a response. "How about a ride in the bike?" she asked, as he barked louder. He loved riding in the moped. She had gotten a special attachment so he could ride safely with her, and he simply adored the feeling of wind sweeping past his face. "Alright, but you're wearing that? People will stare," she teased, smiling softly as she grabbed her jacket and wallet.

"WELCOME BACK!" screeched Fran Gardiner as Jayne, Eddie, Maddie (holding a small baby close to her body), Wendell, Sam and Alice all walked through the front door. "Oh Jayne, it's so good to see you!" she cried, wrapping a tight hug around her eldest daughter. Ella looked over Jayne. She was pale and looked drawn, but otherwise seemed fine.

"My my Ella, how you've grown," commented Eddie, approaching his niece with a grin on his face.

"Hello Uncle!" she greeted happily, hugging him tightly. "How was the trip?" she asked him, as Fran embraced Maddie, completely in awe of Erin.

"Pleasant. The kids fell asleep," he laughed.

"Ella! Goodness, you look stunning!" Maddie exclaimed, when she saw her niece.

"Aunt Maddie! How are you?" she asked, hugging her best she could with the baby held in her arms. "And this must be Erin-Grace!" she said, looking down at the adorable bundle.

"I'm very well, and yes, say hello to your newest cousin," smiled Maddie. She was an attractive woman with dark hair that almost looked brown, but was really red. She had very nice green eyes and lovely clear skin, but she still had some of the baby weight left over from Erin.

"Hey Erin! I'm Ella," she greeted softly.

"Do you want to hold her?" Maddie asked, as Ella looked up.

"A – are you sure?" she questioned nervously. "I mean, I might break her," she pointed out, but Maddie only laughed, and moved the tiny baby into Ella's arms. She was a warm weight, surprisingly light; her little head nestled in the crook of Ella's arm. "I haven't held a baby since… since Alice and Sam were small enough to fit into my arms," she laughed, casting her mind back almost four years.

"_God Auntie, she's so beautiful!" Ella exclaimed, holding Alice tightly. She was nervous, holding a child was a stressful job. _

"_I think she looks a little bit like you, Ella," Maddie said conversationally, she hugging Sam to her chest. "Jacques, would you like to hold Samuel?" she asked, turning to the man sitting next to Ella, watching her with a smile on his face._

"_Umm – okay, but only if you think I can," he replied awkwardly, as Maddie shifted, and placed the baby in his arms. "Oh – wow, he's just…wow," Jacques laughed, looking down at the tiny creature. "He's gorgeous, Madeline," he informed her. Maddie watched with a smile on her face._

"_You two look very cute like that," she said, as Eddie agreed, a two year old Wendell playing with his shoes. _

"_Hey Alice, guess what! I'm your cousin," Ella said softly to the baby in her arms. "See that guy with your brother? That's Jacques," she informed her._

"_Just think, in a couple of years this could be us," Jacques whispered to Ella. _

"_Hmm…I thought I was me right now," she replied cheekily, as he rolled his eyes._

"_You know what I mean," he said, as she nodded._

"_I know," she answered softly, kissing his lips briefly, before turning back to the baby._

"Hmm, I don't think I'm ever getting Erin back, Ella, she seems to like you a lot," Maddie said, smiling at the picture before her.

"I smell like a cookie, that's why," Ella replied laughingly. "Here, you should take her; she looks like she misses you already," she said, passing the baby on. They were sitting in the lounge room, everyone drinking tea and talking about what they had been doing over the past few years.

"Shall we give Erin her presents now? We _did_ miss her birthday," Fran said, as Maddie laughed.

"Sounds like a decent plan, but you really didn't have to get her anything, we still have most of the things from when Alice and Sam were born," Eddie said. "Speaking of which, where did they get to?" he questioned.

"I'll go get them, I think they're looking at Lye's rabbits out the back," Ella said, standing up. She left the room as they started to tear into Fran's oversized gift, a designer baby mobile. She walked through the house to the backyard, scanning the scene around to find the children.

She spotted them by the rabbit hutch, Lye's only attempt at responsibility. May looked after them when she got bored.

"Hey guys!" Ella said, approaching the three children, ruffling Wendell's hair playfully.

"Hi Ellie!" Wendell greeted excitedly. "Look at this one! Isn't it pretty?" he asked, smoothing back the fur of Topaz, a cream coloured dwarf rabbit.

"Yeah, she's gorgeous," Ella replied, kneeling down. "I think that one's name is Lucy, and the one you're holding, Sam, is called Ruby," she informed the twins.

"Ellie, you look sad," Sam said, peering up at her. Ella was slightly confused, she had been smiling.

"Really? Do you think so?" she asked curiously, still with a smile. Sam nodded.

"What's wrong, Ellie?" he asked. Ella sighed softly.

"Why don't I tell you three a story?" she suggested, sitting down. Alice instantly sat on her lap, still patting Lucy.

"I like stories," Alice said, wriggling her uncovered toes.

"I like it when you tell stories Ellie," Wendell said, he too sitting down, Sam taking a place next to him.

"Well, it starts off with this Princess," Ella began.

"Was she beautiful?" Alice asked her, looking up with wide eyes.

"Yes, she was very beautiful," she replied. "Her name was Princess Sophia, and she was born in Egypt, you know, the one with all of the Mummies," she continued.

"We were learning about Egypt in class!" Wendell cried. "They walk funny," he added, as Ella laughed.

"Yes, but this Princess didn't. She was born in Egypt, and when she was a little girl, she moved to France with her parents, the King and the Queen, who were both French themselves. The beautiful Princess grew up into a beautiful woman, and everyone loved her, because she was so wonderful and kind," she explained, resting her chin on the top of Alice's head. "She fell in love with a man who owned a printing press, and he would use it to print books," she continued. "He made lovely, beautiful books, and the Princess loved to read them, and see the pictures on the pages. She met the bookmaker and they got married, and started to travel. Then, a baby was born. She was a little girl, called… Rosé," she said.

"Rose – _ay_," said Wendell, trying to pronounce it.

"Yes, that's it," laughed Ella. "Rosé was a bit of a trouble maker, but her parents loved her very much. They lived in a beautiful house by the seaside, and the little girl grew up with a great love of music and art," she continued. "One day, they were riding in the village in their carriage, when another carriage crashed into theirs," she explained, as Alice gasped.

"Were they hurted?" she asked fearfully.

"The beautiful Princess died, and the Bookmaker's legs broke, and they couldn't fix them," she said, her voice becoming a little pained. "Rosé was the only one who got out okay. Her arm hurt a little, but she was alright," she assured them. "But because the Bookmaker loved the Princess very much, it hurt when she was taken away from him. So he didn't talk that much, and he didn't love the little girl as much anymore, because she reminded him of what he had lost," she explained softly. "So he sent her away to live with a new family. Her family new family didn't like her very much, especially the evil step-mother, she used to hit the little girl very hard and make her sad, but the little girl would never cry, because she didn't want to let the evil step-mother know that she had hurt her," she continued.

"Like Cinderella?" Sam questioned.

"A bit," Ella replied. "But there was a beautiful Princess in that family too. Her name was – Jewel, like a pretty stone," she said. "Jewel was kind to Rosé, but Ly – err, Kye, who was another Princess, didn't. There was one more Princess, her name was… Mayumi, but she had a spell on her that made her shy, and she could only say silly things, so people didn't like her that much," she explained.

"Ooh, I _knew_ there was gonna be a spell!" Wendell declared.

"But the evil step-mother was still mean to the little girl, so she ran away to go to a school where they would teach her all sorts of magical things, and where her love of music and art could grow," she continued. "The little girl was all alone though, and it was very frightening to be on your own," she said. "But one day she met someone… his name was Jacques, and he was very handsome. He saw the little girl crying, and he made her laugh, he made the little girl remember how lovely life had been when she still had her mother the Princess and her father the Bookmaker," she said softly.

"Was he a Prince too?" Alice asked curiously.

"Yes, he was," Ella replied. "And the little girl loved the Prince very much. He was very kind to her, and very sweet, and he made her feel very safe… and for once, the little girl was very happy. She met a group of travelling minstrels, those are the people that play music, and they asked her to sing with them, so she did. She loved to sing with them, and the minstrels became her friends. She was very happy with the Prince, he was a painter, and he would paint beautiful pictures of her, and they lived in a beautiful castle together," she continued. "The Prince asked her to marry him and she said yes, but that she wanted to wait a little while."

"What happened next?" Alice asked excitedly.

"Well… one day Rosé and the Prince argued. They fought terribly, but after they argued he kissed her and told her it was all going to be better, and she believed him," she said. "But they argued the next day again, and the next day, and it seemed like they were always arguing, because the little girl wanted to travel with her friends and play music, but the Prince wanted her to stay with him, to never leave, so they could get married and have their own little boys and girls," she said. "But the little girl was still a little girl, and she wanted to travel and enjoy life before she did, she tried to explain to the Prince that she loved him very much, but he didn't believe her," she continued. "They argued again, and the Prince hurt her, like how the evil step-mother used to," she said, after a pause.

"Did she cry?" Sam asked fearfully, as Ella shook her head.

"No, she never cried. He said he was very, very, _very_ sorry, and he was very angry with himself for hurting her, but the little girl forgave him, because she loved him," she said softly. "But they argued again, and he hurt her again, and he did it some more, and that made the little girl want to leave even more with her friends, but she still loved him. Her friends were very sad, because the little girl was getting sick because she was so scared, and one of her friends, Markl, was trying very hard to make it better," she said. "One day a bird told the little girl that _maybe_ at the end of the year, the stork would drop off a package with a baby in it, and that scared the little girl, even though she wasn't sure if it was true. She was very scared and worried when she walked up the stairs of the castle where she lived with the Prince, and he was there on the stairs. He wanted to know where she had been, and why she was so upset. She didn't want to tell him, and they argued again. The Prince accidentally yelled so hard that the little girl fell backwards and tripped, and fell down the stairs. The Prince was very scared and took her to the magical healers, and she nearly died," she said. "She went into a deep sleep…"

"Like Sleeping Beauty!" said Alice. "Was the little girl okay?" she asked, as Ella nodded.

"When she woke up the Prince was angry and he was sad too. He said that she hadn't told him about the little bird and he was very sorry, and he cried a lot, and he told her that she was beautiful and he loved her and he had talked to a special doctor about when he got angry, and he was getting better, but the little girl was still weak. Her friend Markl saved her though, and he made the Prince go away, and everyone told the little girl that it was going to be all better again, but she still loved the Prince and wanted him to come back," she said. "But she was also angry with the Prince, angry because he had hurt her a lot, and not only on the outside, but on the inside, and she fell to little tiny pieces. But she got better," she explained. "She travelled with the minstrels around the world, and everyone loved her very much, and she lived in a busy city with all her friends. One day she met another Prince," she stated.

"There are lots of Princes and Princess' in this story," Wendell said wisely.

"This Prince was called Will, and he had a very big kingdom, but he was so lonely that sometimes he was mean to people," she continued. "Prince Will liked the little girl very much, but the little girl was silly, and hated him, because he had been mean to her at first," she explained. "Prince Will went away, and she was happy, because life was getting better again, the spell on Princess Mayumi had been lifted, and she was in love with the little girl's friend Markl. But she was sad as well, because Princess Jewel was sad; her knight in shining armour had ran away because Prince Will had told him that she didn't love him," she continued. "Rosé met an evil wizard who put a spell on her, and made her believe his stories about Prince Will, even though they weren't real," she explained. "She went away to visit a friend of hers in the country, and Prince Will was there, but there was a dragon too, and she made the little girl angry. The little girl got very angry at everyone, especially Prince Will, because she found out what he had done to Princess Jewel's Knight in shining armour, and because she still believed what the evil wizard said."

"Why did the wizard put a spell on the little girl?" Sam asked curiously, as Ella sighed.

"I'm not sure, Sam," she replied. "But one day Prince Will came to her room and asked her to marry him, but he said it very badly, and insulted the little girl's family whilst he did it, so the little girl yelled at him and said very mean things, so Prince Will went away. But he gave her a letter and told her the truth about everything, about why he had told Jewel's knight in shining armour that she didn't love him, about how much he loved her, and about the evil wizard. When she read the letter, the spell was broken, and she realised how mean she had been to Prince Will, all because of the spell, and what he had said when they first met, and because she was still hurting from when Prince Jacques had pushed her down the stairs," she said softly, smoothing back Alice's hair. "She wanted to talk to Prince Jacques, but she couldn't. She still loved him, in a way, but there was all of that hurt there, and she didn't know if she could do it. And then there was Prince Will… she was very sorry that she had hurt him, and all she wanted to do was tell him that, but she couldn't, because he had gone away to his Kingdom. And most of all, she wanted to tell him that maybe, just _maybe_, she liked him too, but she wasn't sure at all…" she said quietly.

"What happened next? What happened?" the children asked eagerly, their interest peaked. Ella was about to respond that she didn't know, when they heard a cry from behind.

"Come on inside you four!" Fran called, interrupting the story. They all groaned and put the rabbits back, before they headed indoors. "I thought you were going to get them to come inside," Fran pointed out, as Ella shrugged.

"We got distracted. I was telling a story," Ella replied.

"Hmm, what one? They were hanging onto your every word," she replied, shooing the children into the house.

"Umm… I do a really great version of 'Cinderella'," she replied, shrugging. "Let's go in, I'm dying for a piece of that cake," she said, following the children into the kitchen.

**A/N: So hopefully all of your questions about Ella and Jacques have been answered. I honestly had no idea how I was going to do Jacques, and what he had done to 'hurt' Ella, but my sister asked me to read over an assignment she had written focusing on the effect of abuse from parents and adults. The assignment was trying to focus on the reason why people didn't report abuse from their partners and parents because they've developed an unconditional love for the individual. I don't know if I agree with everything my sister said in the assignment, but it was very interesting, and some of the case studies were fascinating. I had always known that Fran had abused Ella in the story, slapping her and hitting her when it was unnecessary, but I didn't know until I read that assignment that she had walked out of one abusive situation with her Aunt into another with Jacques. Don't hate Jacques, because you'll see him later, and he **_**is**_** a good person, Ella knows this, but there will be an interesting turn of things later on.**


	24. I just don't know

A/N: Smaller chapter, but it's necessary :D Hopefully the last of the angst :D

**A/N: Smaller chapter, but it's necessary :D A few people have been quite interested in Ella's history and what's going on with Jacques, but I'm hoping that the last chapter outlined it a bit more, later on you can read an explanation from Malcolm's point of view as to what happens, and that clears things up a bit more :D**

**Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. The song is 'Never & Always on my Mind', version performed by Damien Rice. **

"_Now this applies equally to you and I,_

_The only thing that we share is the same sky…_

_These empty metaphors, they're all in vain_

_Like 'can't you see the grass is greener where it rains?'_" sung Lye, terribly out of tune as she strolled through the Gardiner's living room, where Ella sat, a sleeping Alice on her lap.

"Lye, if you _have_ to sing, please, not that song," hissed Ella, putting her hands softly over Alice's ears so that she wouldn't awaken.

"Sorry cuz, but I like that song, even if it _is_ by _Darcy_," she practically spat, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"You've barely met him, how do you know what he's like?" she asked sharply, unsure of why she was getting so annoyed. Darcy no longer wanted to see her, right?

"I know someone who knows him," said Lye pointedly, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowel.

"Yeah. Me," snapped Ella, smoothing down Alice's hair.

"Nope, someone else who knows him, and he knows him better than you," she boasted with a grin.

"Whatever. If you're going to sing that song, please go somewhere else," Ella requested.

"Hey, _you_ wouldn't happen to know who it's about, would you?" Lye asked excitedly. "Because _everyone_ wants to know, they're all going crazy, someone thought it was you for a bit, but I was like, 'as if, Ella hates him'," she laughed.

"No. I don't know who it's about," Ella replied, as Lye frowned.

"But you _do_ know Darcy, don't you," Lye stated.

"Yes, I know him… well, but not as well as I thought I did, but I know him," she answered, wrapping her arms around Alice and pulling her closer to her chest. "Come on sweetie, you're exhausted, I'll take you upstairs so you can go to bed," she whispered.

"Mm… no, I wanna stay with you, Ellie," Alice replied in a very mumbled tone.

"I've got to go home, honey," Ella replied soothingly, as Alice's eyes welled up in tears.

"But I don't wanna share a room with cousin Lye, I wanna share a room with you," she whispered, even though Lye had left the room.

"Ally, I can't stay here tonight, who will feed Michelangelo?" she asked.

"Ellie I don't wanna go upstairs! I wanna go to your house!" she insisted, as Ella sighed.

"Maybe you should take Alice home with you tonight, Ella," suggested Maddie. Ella turned around, her Aunt was standing in the doorway, a soft smile on her lips. "Eddie has to go to the shops and get some more diapers, he can drop you two off," she offered.

"Maddie, what about Wendell and Sam? Wouldn't they get jealous?" Ella questioned, with a slight frown.

"Are you kidding? They're terribly excited because they're sleeping in bunk beds tonight. Nothing could take away that thrill," laughed Maddie. "Go on, she probably won't let you leave without her anyway," she said.

"Are you sure you trust me?" Ella asked teasingly, as Maddie rolled her eyes.

"Of course I do, Elle," she answered. "Alice, do you want to get your things for tonight?" she asked her daughter.

"Yay!" cried Alice, sliding out of Ella's arms, and racing upstairs.

"What time should I bring her back tomorrow?" Ella asked her Aunt, pushing some of her curls back behind her ear.

"We're taking them to the zoo tomorrow, so if you could have her ready to go by ten that would be great, we could just pick her up on the way," Maddie explained. "Do you want to come to the zoo with us? I could use the extra pair of hands," she offered, but Ella shook her head.

"I can't, I've got a rehearsal tomorrow at eleven," she replied. "The record company wants to make sure we stay sharp for recording," she explained, with a shrug.

"That's quite alright, I'm going to tell Lye that there's an attractive monkey keeper to get her to come along," she explained, causing Ella to laugh.

"How appropriate," she replied, as Alice rushed downstairs. "Ready to go?" she asked, as Alice nodded brightly, her red curls bobbing and scattering about her face. "Come on then," laughed Ella, taking her hand, and her Disney Princess pillow.

It was late at night when Ella heard a scuffling noise, and the sound of footsteps in her apartment.

"Mm… Michel…angelo? she moaned tiredly, lifting up her head.

"Ellie… I can't sleep," said Alice, suddenly appearing at the top of her stairs, looking quite upset.

"Aw, come on Ally… hop into my bed, it'll be alright," she said, shifting over in her fairly large double bed. Alice instantly rushed towards the bed and slid under the covers.

"I like your bed… it's all soft and silky," she said, running a hand over the material.

"Mm… I got satin sheets," Ella replied, hugging her cousin like a teddy bear to her chest.

"Why?" Alice asked, now wide awake.

"Well… have you ever gone to a friend's place and stayed there so late that they said, 'you can sleep here tonight'?" she asked.

"No," Alice replied.

"Well, I did. And the bed that I slept in had such lovely sheets, they weren't satin, they were silk and Egyptian cotton, but I saw these in a store and remembered how comfortable the bed was, so I bought them for my bed," she explained, still quite tired.

"Ellie, do you remember the story you told us today?" Alice asked, her big dark eyes looking into Ella's.

"Yes," Ella replied.

"Can you tell it to me again?" Alice requested, as Ella sighed.

"It all started with a Princess and a Bookmaker…"

Ella smiled softly. Alice had fallen asleep not long after Prince Will had given Rosé the letter, telling her how sorry he was. She looked out of her bedroom window into the night's sky.

"_Maybe I didn't hold you, quite as often as I should…_" she sung quietly, not even sure why she was singing it. "_And I guess I never told you, quite as often as I could…_" a tear slipped unconsciously from her eyes. "_Little things I should have said and done…I just never took the time…_" another tear joined the first as stars twinkled brightly back at Ella in the dark blue sky. "_You were always on my… you were always on my mind_…"

"Ellie?" Alice questioned softly. "Ellie, why are you crying?" she asked.

"I remembered the rest of the story, Alice," Ella said, still staring out the window, tears still falling silently from her eyes.

"What happened to the little girl and Prince Will and Jack – Ja – Jack-uey?" she asked.

"Prince Will locked himself away in his Kingdom, away from the little girl so he would never have to see her again, and be hurt," she began. "But Rosé missed him. She missed the way he laughed and the way he smiled, because even though he didn't do it very often, it was very lovely. She missed his beautiful voice, the way he smelt, the way he treated her as well, because he _had_ been rude, and mean, and stupid, but he treated her like a Princess as well, it was just a little bit harder to see," she explained.

"Did she love him?" Alice asked curiously.

"She wasn't sure," Ella replied softly. "She still hated what he had done, and she wasn't ready to forgive him… but she was ready to try," she answered. "So Prince Will went to his window, and sung a song for Rosé, a song to tell her everything… that when he walked away it hurt him very badly, and that… he had seen her cry, and he had seen her rise up to the wrong conclusions and ideas, but he corrected her, not because he wanted her to fall in love with him, but because he didn't want her to be hurt," she practically whispered. "And the little girl heard his song, and she wanted to sing one back to him, but she was scared that if she sung it, he wouldn't listen, because she had hurt him so badly," she finished.

"And what about Prince Jack?" Alice asked.

"She had sung a song to him. She had sung so many songs to him, but she didn't think he would listen, and there was one song she wanted him to hear, but every time she tried she would cry," she replied.

"Ellie?"

"Yes Alice?"

"Who did the little girl want to marry? Prince Will or Prince Jack?"

Ella rolled over on her side to face Alice.

"Time to go to sleep."

**A/N: REVIEW!**


	25. Can I drive?

A/N: Hmm, had enough angst yet

**A/N: Hmm, had enough angst yet? It's really getting quite full on now. And yet, I persist :D**

**Disclaimer: Hmmm. Nope. Not mine :(**

"There's something you're not telling me," Jayne said suddenly, as Ella pulled a bottle of red orange soft drink from the fridge at the café.

"I know. My hair is really blue," Ella replied cheekily, taking her drink to the counter, as Jayne put a bottle of apple juice next to it.

"You're acting very strangely," Jayne commented, looking her cousin up and down as Ella paid for the drinks.

"Hang on, we're supposed to be talking about _you_, and about what California was like, not _me_," Ella pointed out, as they took their drinks and left the café.

"Yes, but… you're hiding something," Jayne explained. "I want to know what it is," she said, popping open the top of her juice.

"Jayne, all of that American food must have gone to your brain," Ella commented, sipping her drink as they walked through the busy London street. "So tell me about California," she requested.

"Well, it was really warm there, and everyone was tanned and gorgeous," Jayne began. "Mostly I took the kids out to the beach or to the movies so Maddie could rest, I also helped with the cooking and the cleaning and that, it was very nice," she replied, smilingly.

"You mentioned that you were going to go see Caroline," Ella said, as Jayne nodded.

"We had lunch," she replied.

"Is that it? Did you see Charlie?" Ella questioned in response, dodging a business men yelling into his mobile.

"No," Jayne replied. "It's quite alright, I'm over him Elle, I really am," she assured her, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Yeah right, you were going to get married, Jayne, you can't just 'be over him'," she replied.

"You were going to get married, and you got over him," Jayne pointed out.

"I don't want to discuss Jacques anymore, Jayne, this is about you," snapped Ella, before sighing. "Sorry, it's just… I haven't gotten over him, Jayne, and I don't want you to have to go through three years of pain before you realise that no matter what you thought or said, you can't just turn love off," she replied.

"Ella, I don't hate Charlie, but I don't love him anymore," Jayne said. "I'll always remember him. He was the best man I could ever know, but it's over now, and I have to move on," she said firmly, as Ella rolled her eyes. "If we walked past him right now in this very street I would just keep on walking, I would hardly recognise him! California is very diverting," she continued, trying to convince her cousin.

"I saw Darcy in Kent, you know," Ella said suddenly.

"You didn't mention that before," frowned Jayne as they walked into a music store.

"I forgot about it," Ella lied, starting to flick through some CDs.

"He didn't… he didn't say anything about Charlie, did he?" Jayne asked nervously, biting her lip.

"No, he didn't," Ella answered. "Sorry, I tried to ask him, but it didn't work," she apologised.

"It's okay, I'm alright, Ella," Jayne assured her, Ella turning back to the CDs. "So why was he in Kent?" she asked.

"He was visiting his Aunt with his brother-in-law, he's Lady Bourg's nephew," she explained.

"How was he?" Jayne questioned.

"He looked fine," Ella answered.

"I really like his new song," she commented, as Ella nodded.

"Yeah, I was just… looking for it," she muttered, picking up a CD that was before her.

"Oh look, it's got two extra tracks on it," Jayne said, looking at the single that Ella held. "Are you going to get it? I might get myself a copy, he hasn't released any music for over a year," she commented.

"Yeah, I think I'll… err, w – why do you think he called it that, and not the name of the single?" Ella asked shakily, still staring at it in her hands.

"Well, he's a bit weird, but I don't think this is a single, it's just a… well, maybe you could call it a mini EP," she commented. "But that's a nice name, 'My Sweetest Downfall', I wonder if he's naming his album something like that, what do you think it'll be called, Ella?" Jayne asked curiously.

"Samson…" muttered Ella under her breath.

"Hmm? I didn't get that," Jayne replied, picking up her own copy of the single.

"I – I said that I didn't know," Ella explained, quickly taking the CD to the counter and paying for it.

Sitting in her house later that night, Michelangelo digging holes in the yard, Ella shakily opened the CD case.

Maybe it was a coincidence, she thought, as the first track, 'Never and Always on my Mind' started to play. Maybe it had nothing to do with her, and it was a random occurrence that she was getting jumpy about…

"_I saw you cry_…"

Ella collapsed on her couch. He had heard her play 'Samson'. No one had heard that song. He probably, naively thought that it was about the Biblical story. He would have no idea what it _really_ meant. She rationed her breaths as she listened to the song, hearing him almost scream '_just kill me_' with such desperation that it made her insides ache. God, she hoped that he didn't hate her.

'Hang on,' she thought to herself. 'Why do I not want him to hate me? It doesn't matter what he thinks about me, we're probably never going to see each other again!' She buried her face in the couch and gave an irritated groan. She had certainly messed things up, again. As the song changed, she listened with curiosity.

"_Oh take this longing from my tongue,  
whatever useless things these hands have done  
Let me see your beauty broken down  
like you would do for one you love"_

Her beauty? He thought she was beautiful? She couldn't help but blush at that, she never really did feel beautiful.

"_I'd love to see you naked over there  
especially from the back"_

"Huh!" Ella cried, sitting up immediately. "How could you put that into a _song_?" she questioned the innocent CD player, very much affronted. She crossed her arms and made a small disgruntled noise as the song changed.

"Don't tell _me_ to shut my face!" she snapped, forgetting that he couldn't hear her.

"_The only one that you know  
I wanna live, wanna die, wanna grow old with you  
I wanna be the only one that you know  
'Cause I adore you"_

"No one's ever adored me before," Ella said thoughtfully, listening to the song, and biting her lip softly.

"_How I choose bruise, loose, win, sin, bin, tease, please,  
I want to have her on her knees  
Play, pray, say, rock, feel, kneel, dream,  
How I choose to scream  
Shout, wake, sleep, I need to touch her deep  
Change,  
Rearrange,  
Fate, wait, weight, kiss and taste the place  
And make weather in my face"_

"Jesus Christ!" swore Ella, jumping up as she heard the next verse. "Really smooth, Mister Darcy!" she cried, shuddering, running those lyrics over in her head. "I can_not_ believe you wrote that _down_!" she cried, feeling suddenly very violated. She was only grateful that no one had really caught onto the fact that all three of those songs were about her.

When the small CD finished she played it again. It was shocking that he had written music like that about her, but there was a funny feeling she had when she realised that the songs she was listening to were written about _her_, no one else, _her_.

"You are coming with us, aren't you, Ella?" questioned Maddie suddenly a few nights later, as Ella raised her head. She had been contemplating the double meaning of the title of Darcy's mini EP, and not listening to any of the conversation taking place at the Gardiner dinner table.

"Hmm, what?" Ella asked, as Eddie laughed.

"You promised to come with us on a tour of Northern England, so we can look at some houses," he reminded her.

"Oh, yes, I did," she replied, with a small laugh at her own distracted self. "When do you plan on leaving?" she asked.

"Well, we were thinking Friday, that's when we would hit the road," Eddie said, as Ella nearly spat out her drink.

"_This_ Friday?" she questioned. "Wow, that's a bit… short notice, don't you think?" she questioned, her eyes wide.

"We know, but we want to go early so that we can still have the rest of the summer," Maddie explained.

"And how long do you think it's going to be?" Ella asked curiously. "I just want to know how long Mal… err, Denny has to look after Michelangelo," she explained.

"I thought Malcolm was doing it," Jayne said, with surprise.

"Malcolm doesn't like dogs anymore," Ella lied.

"But doesn't he have his own dog, May?" she questioned her silent sister, who was staring at her broccoli.

"Yes," May answered simply, mouthing 'sorry' to Ella.

"Okay. He still likes dogs, but Denny _really_ wants to look after Michelangelo, I was trying to be subtle because he thinks it's girly," Ella said finally. "Auntie Maddie?" she questioned, glancing across the table.

"Well, we've booked all of the hotels and everything, so we should leave this Friday and get back three Fridays from then," she answered. "We want to spend a week in Derbyshire specifically, it's where I grew up, and if we could find a house there it would be just wonderful," she said smilingly. "We've rented one of those Toyota Taragos to get around in, because we'll need plenty of room," she added.

"I can be ready by Friday," Ella replied confidently.

Saying she could be ready by Friday, and _actually_ being ready by Friday were two different things, however. Friday came, and Ella was going to be picked up in half an hour, but she was only half packed, her place was a bit of a mess and she hadn't yet showered.

Ella took the quickest shower she possibly could (even though she had to wash her hair) and ran out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel, her wet hair dripping everywhere.

"Come help me pack, Michelangelo!" she called out, before remembering that Denny had already picked him up. She sighed in disappointment as she dashed up the stairs to her loft. She was about to put on a pair of jeans when she glanced out the window and saw that it was quite sunny. Instead she found a very comfortable pair of high waisted shorts, a baggy white Oxford shirt (it belonged to Denny, but it had been missing so long that he didn't remember he even had it) and put on a high brown belt, sliding into a pair of white tennis shoes. She grinned. Fashionable in only seconds.

She wrapped her hair in the towel and quickly began shoving clothes into her bag, whilst tidying up a bit as she went. She managed to squeeze that last extra shirt into her bag before she rolled it down the stairs (wincing as it went), and grabbed another, smaller bag, putting in it her essentials, things like hair brushes and makeup and tampons.

"I'm coming!" she cried, when she heard a knock at her door. She did one more quick check over the apartment from a bird's eye view as Eddie let himself in.

"We've got to go, Ella," he said, watching her dash down the stairs.

"I know, I'm coming," she said hurriedly, running into the bathroom and putting in her hygienic items, including her favourite wild strawberry and lily shampoo.

"We've got to go _now_, Ella," he reminded her, picking up her larger bag.

"I know!" Ella cried, sliding her laptop into its bag. "Okay, I'm ready," she said finally, following her uncle out of the house. She locked it and got into the waiting car, some sort of sleek giant. Her bags fit in easily, even though all four children were coming and had each had seemingly brought a small island with them.

They got out of London in good time, but it could have been better, had the GPS not tried to kill them.

"It says go left!" Maddie cried.

"Turn left, turn left, turn left," the mechanical voice of the GPS ordered.

"I can't, it's a one way road!" Eddie shouted.

"Can I drive?" Ella asked randomly, probably at the worst possible moment.

Half an hour later though, they were on a highway, speeding past stormy weather behind them, and Ella was requesting to drive again.

"I thought you didn't have your licence," Maddie said with confusion.

"I don't," Ella replied. "But I'd like to drive. I've been watching you, it doesn't seem too hard, you put the key in the keyhole, and then… you press down on the peddle on the left, right?" she questioned, as Maddie rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, but I'm not letting you drive this – it's not our car," Eddie said sharply, as Ella pouted, and crossed her arms.

"Tell us another story, Ellie!" cried Wendell from the backseat were he sat with Sam, watching a Sponge Bob on the car DVD player.

"Did I ever tell you the story of the mean, bullying Uncle who didn't allow his adorable niece to drive his car? It's terribly inspiring," she replied, as Sam giggled, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

"We have to put up with this for another hour, don't we," he said, sighing as Maddie confirmed it.

They visited five different houses before they finally got to the Hotel were they were spending the first two nights. All of the houses had something wrong with them, they weren't the right colour, the benches were too low, they didn't have enough electrical sockets, no matter which house; they were able to find a problem with it. Everyone was quite exhausted by the time they reached the hotel, and were only too willing to collapse in the beds after their 'McDonalds in front of the cartoon channel' dinner. Ella had contributed to the hotel-fund, which meant that they were staying nice places, most of them she had already been to when she was touring. Ella shared a room with Alice, it had two twin beds in it, and Alice was at first frightened at the prospect of sleeping in such a large bed alone, but when she realised that she could spread her tiny body out in any position she wished, her favourite being a Swastika, she was absolutely delighted.

Over the next week they travelled from hotel to hotel, looking over houses everyday, all of which had some sort of flaw to them that made them inhabitable to the Gardiners. Ella enjoyed spending time with her cousins, she loved to play with Erin and to tell stories to Alice (her favourite being the story of the Princess and the Bookmaker) and playing games with Sam and Wendell, but she still sat up some nights, looking out the window, and she couldn't explain why to Alice.

On one such night, she sat on the bed, her head held in her hands as she lay on her stomach, looking out into the night's sky.

"_You are my sweetest downfall…I loved you first, I loved you first_…" she sung quietly, almost whispering the words. _"I have to go…I have to go… your hair was long…when we…_" she stopped her quiet singing when she felt another tear. She sat up in bed, and slid off the surface, pushing the sheets off her body. She opened her bag and searched through for a notebook and a pen.

Pulling them out, she checked that Alice was still asleep and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door and sitting down in the empty bath. She was sick and tired of sulking and whinging. She wanted to write him out. Both of them.

**A/N: Obviously, I REALLY like that song… REVIEW!**


	26. Cut me open

A/N: Probably the shortest chapter I've ever posted, but yay, I update so often that you guys should be grateful :p I don't know how much time I'm going to have to write now, but I'll keep on updating whenever I can :D For those of you who think we're al

**A/N: Probably the shortest chapter I've ever posted, but yay, I update so often that you guys should be grateful :p I don't know how much time I'm going to have to write now, but I'll keep on updating whenever I can :D For those of you who think we're almost in the home stretch, you've got it **_**dead**_** wrong. I still have several twists left, and twists on twists, and twists on twists on twists (Like 'Paris when it Sizzles', for all of you Audrey Hepburn fans), so stay tuned :D**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly.**

A sleek black five seater car drove up the pebbled drive, the sides of which were lined with majestic oak trees that cast shadows over the path. The car came to a stop outside the front of the huge estate, its magnitude and elegance making it fine enough to be a modern-day castle. A tall, slender woman with blonde waves and silver-grey eyes stepped out of the car, her expensive Italian boots crunching on the gravel as she started up the stairs to enter the Manor.

Gina Darcy gave a quick greeting to the housekeeper, before she headed straight up to the third floor, heading down the hall to the dark mahogany door that separated Wilhelm Darcy's study from the rest of the world. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open without knocking, and stepped through the threshold.

"I can't believe that _you_'re my brother," Gina commented, folding her arms and looking across at the man who was indeed, her flesh and blood. He was sitting at his desk in only his shirtsleeves and trousers, his hair a terribly mess, his face unshaven and eyes bloodshot, halfway through a bottle of scotch, a tumbler held loosely in his hand.

"Thanks," he said, his voice hoarse. "Please, I'd like to be alone for a little while… did you drive all the way here from Nottingham?" he asked her curiously.

"It's not that far away, you know, only ten miles," Gina reminded him, stepping towards his desk. "God Will, what's happened to you?" she questioned desperately, looking over his appearance. "You aren't still upset about Ella-Rosé, are you?" she asked.

"Don't say her name…" begged William, burying his head in his arms. "I was so _stupid_! I should never have given her that letter, she must hate me!" he cried, reaching for the scotch.

"Will! Stop it! If she can't see who you are then she's not worth it," Gina said firmly, taking the bottle away from him.

"She is worth it!" he snapped angrily. "Leave me alone! I want to think!" he said sharply, stumbling to his feet, holding the chair to keep steady.

"Where are you going?" Gina asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't you _dare_ walk out on my Wilhelm Darcy," she said firmly.

"I'm going to the music room. Go back to your children and your husband," he practically ordered, as he staggered his way to the door between two bookshelves, slamming it behind him when he fell through it.

Gina ran a hand through her hair and sighed. He had been acting like that ever since he recorded the mini-EP. He was always drinking or playing sad songs, he hated talking to people and he was doing the bare minimum of work for Darcy International, luckily Chris was capable enough of picking up some of the slack, and Richard was helping out as well.

But Wilhelm only drank with people or at dinner, it wasn't like him to get drunk to forget his troubles, but that was exactly what he was doing. He numbed himself so that he didn't have to feel the pain of Ella's loss. From what Gina could tell, he had done something, and now this 'Ella-Rosé' was gone. She knew it involved a letter of some sort, but that was the extent of her knowledge. She was very frightened for her brother's health, and wished only that he could see sense again, or that his girlfriend or whatever would!

"Wilhelm J. N. Darcy, you will _not_ ignore your only sister!" she cried through the door, which he had locked.

"I'm working, Gina!" he snapped. "Go home!"

"I'm not going home until you see sense!"

"I _said_ go home!" he said finally, pulling the door open. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his skin pale, his eyes piercing as he gripped the handle. "I still love her! Every day without her is just another day of torture! You don't _know_ what it's like to feel this way!" he cried. "If I want to drink, I'll drink! If I want to stay in here all day, then I'll bloody well do it! It's not going to make her come back and it's not going to make her go away – but at least I won't have to feel it like this!" he finished.

Gina tried to stay firm; she tried to keep her expression hard, her brother needed to get out of the rut he had formed for himself. But the tone of his voice, and the look on his face broke her. She pulled her brother into a tight hug, and he reciprocated.

"I miss her," he whispered softly, as Gina felt tears on the top of her head. "I miss her so goddamn much," he cried.

"I know, Will," Gina soothed. "It's okay, it's all going to be fine," she assured him. But, to be perfectly honest, she had no idea if what she was saying was even true.

**A/N: Yep, short, angsty, and yet I haven't been tarred and feathered. Yet. And don't worry, Ella will be playing a song soon, and there will be some sort of flashback to the first song she wrote when it all ended with Jacques. Darcy didn't steal her song, but a line in Ella's song is the name of his CD. Since it's such a short reference, he wouldn't have to quote it.**


	27. gulp

A/N: Yep, Pemberley

**A/N: Yep, Pemberley. We see it. We see Darcy. And guess what – NO TEE -SHIRT!! WHOOOO!**

**Disclaimer: Hmmm…. I don't really know, none of my characters have the same names… maybe I **_**do**_** own them… Ah well, lets just keep the lawyers happy :D**

"Ella, I swear to God, I adore my children – but they're driving me nuts!" Maddie exclaimed, sliding into Ella's hotel room and collapsing on one of the beds.

"We've been on the road for a week, and you're already giving in?" Ella questioned teasingly, as Maddie sighed.

"Tomorrow we're going to Derbyshire, and I just want _one_ day when we can look around, not even at houses or anything – without the kids screaming at me," she explained.

"If you want, I could stay with them at the hotel, or take them out myself," she offered.

"Oh no. I planned this trip so I can spend some quality time with _you_, my dear," Maddie said. "The next hotel is the most expensive one yet, and it's got a day-care centre, I'm planning on leaving Wendell and the twins there for a few hours so I can just see my old little hometown," she sighed. "I've planned it all out you see, we leave the hotel at eight tomorrow morning, we get to The Lambton Hotel at nine-thirty, then I want to have a look around the town, particularly Pemberley Manor," she informed her niece.

"Pemberley, that's funny, Wilhelm Darcy lives in a place called… oh no," Ella replied. "No, I don't really want to go to Pemberley at all," she exclaimed, sitting up, her eyes wide.

"Why? I thought you knew Darcy," Maddie questioned frowningly.

"I do but – what will he think if we turn up on his doorstep demanding to see his house?" Ella asked, her face loosing its colour.

"Ella, _anyone_ is allowed to go into that house, it's got a private collection of some very fine art that's always on display for the public, _and_ it's actually listed as a museum, it has all of the history of Derbyshire, it's a very fine exhibition," Maddie explained. "We can go in if we want, I used to go there all the time when I was a child," she added.

"But don't people live there?" Ella questioned.

"Yes, but the main part of the house is roped off, the tour only includes the South-West wing and a section of the grounds, even if Darcy _is_ there, you won't meet him," she explained, as Ella sighed. "So will you come?"

"I'm going to regret this… but yes, I'll come," she said, giving in finally.

"Good. And because you hesitated, you have to hold Erin when we're there," Maddie added cheekily.

"What? She's your child! Aren't you supposed to enjoy holding your baby?" Ella asked frowningly.

"Of, of course I do, but I just want a little bit of freedom, ever since Erin was born I've been busy with her or the other children, I just want to walk around with my husband and my niece without having to adjust blankets every ten seconds," she explained.

"All right, but only because I adore that little kid," she replied, rolling her eyes, with a strong feeling that she had just been manipulated to do her Aunt's bidding.

"Well, you _are _her godmother," pointed out Maddie.

"Yes, but so is Jayne, I don't want to share," Ella countered laughingly. "Come on then, I'm hungry, and Wendell ate all the chocolate biscuits," she said, standing up, and leading Maddie out of the hotel room.

"So Erin, that's your Mummy. She's a bully to me too. And that's your Daddy. He's mean," Ella informed the tiny bundle in her arms. Erin blinked back her wide hazel eyes back at Ella, halfway between green and halfway between blue. She had a small tuft of very pale strawberry blonde hair, and the smallest toes Ella had ever seen.

"Ella, you _can't_ drive if you don't have a licence," Maddie tried to explain from the front seat.

"See Erin? Now she's lying. You should come live with me, I'll take good care of you," she assured the baby. "You eat Spring Rolls, right? Cos that's pretty much all I eat," she added, as Erin blinked again, as Maddie sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Oh look – we're on Pemberley drive now!" she cried, as Ella raised her head, and looked out the windows as they turned onto a sweet little lane, surrounded by woodland. "These woods are part of the estate, there are hundreds of acres of them, maybe thousands, I'm not sure," she informed Ella.

"Is this the right turn-off?" Eddie asked from the wheel, as Ella turned her head. There was a pretty little drive lined with oak trees before them, sealed with a large, gorgeous Art Nouveau gate, a curly P in the centre. Through the trees she could just glimpse some water, but she couldn't tell if it was a pond or a lake from her position.

"This is it, you just have to press the intercom button to connect with the House Keeper," Maddie informed him. Eddie drove the car up to the gate, and pressed down on a single white button.

"Guest or visitor?" was the immediate response they received from the speaker.

"We wanted to visit the museum," Eddie replied, holding down the button.

"Please come through and drive to the West car park," the intercom answered.

"Wow," Ella exclaimed, as they started to go down the lane. It was beautiful with the light coming through the leaves, and she could see more glimpses of the water, it was a lake of glittering blue, water lilies and swans on the surface. "This would make Monet cry," she exclaimed, still looking at the lake.

"_This_ would make anyone fall to tears," Maddie said, as they came in view of the Manor.

Ella didn't know whether to laugh or weep. She had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life. The Manor was huge, the size of a Palace, and was built like a horseshoe, from the front it looked like one large rectangle, but she could just see that behind there were two other parts, in the middle a courtyard. She counted four floors and several towers, even the stone was beautiful. There was a large staircase leading up to the house, with pillars reaching very high, and big mahogany doors with gold gilding. It all took her breath away. The garden was stunning though, roses everywhere, as well as bluebells and cherry blossoms and violets, trees surrounding the areas and the grass was greener than any other grass she had seen. It was a paradise.

"And I could have been living here, Erin," she muttered, still completely in awe as they drove over to the visitor's car park, a large area with white gravel that was probably once where the carriages were stores when not in use two hundred years ago.

"Come on then, there's a tour that's going to start in ten minutes," Maddie said when the car stopped. Ella was gaping like a fish as she got out of the vehicle, Erin gurgling happily in her arms.

"_C'est stupéfiante_, Erin," she said softly to the infant in her arms.

"Ella, she doesn't understand English, let alone French," Maddie reminded her.

"Lies. She understands every word I'm saying," laughed Ella. "Come on then Erin, let's go see this beautiful castle!" she said, following Eddie and Maddie into the building.

Ella was still in awe when she went in. The place was very, _very_ grand, but unlike Rosings Park, it was certainly not gaudy. It was all very tastefully decorated, and miraculously didn't look like they had just stepped into an eighteenth century novel, it was modern, but still had a sense of history and past around it. There were several other people, all getting pamphlets or maps of the estate from a small stand in the corner. Maddie and Eddie headed over to get some information on the tour, as Ella held Erin, talking to her like she would talk to any University student in perfect French as they looked through one of the large windows.

"I _thought_ I recognised you!" came a voice from behind, as Ella turned. She recognised the kind lady from Darcy's London home, Mrs… Rayne? Rendell?

"Mrs Reynolds! It's a pleasure to see you again," she greeted with a smile.

"Are you here to see young Wilhelm then? That boy never tells me anything…" Mrs Reynolds commented, as Ella laughed.

"No, I'm doing a bit of a tour around Northern England with my Aunt and Uncle, they wanted to see Pemberley, so I tagged along," she replied, trying to be polite. She really did like Mrs Reynolds; she was very friendly.

"And who is this then?" she asked, spying Erin in her arms. "Oh, isn't she just gorgeous?" she exclaimed.

"This is my cousin Erin-Grace, you can hold her if you want," Ella offered, as Mrs Reynolds eyes shone.

"My, I've not seen many babies since young Gina was big enough to fit in my arms," she replied, as Ella passed the infant to her. "Oh, she's just gorgeous," she said smilingly, rocking the baby softly.

"Auntie Maddie, Uncle Eddie! This is Mrs Reynolds, I met her in London," Ella called, urging her relatives to come over.

"You have a beautiful little girl there," Mrs Reynolds said, passing the baby back to Ella. "I'm the House Keeper here, I'll be doing the tour," she added.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs Reynolds, my husband and I were just commenting on how lovely the estate is," Maddie said, shaking the elder woman's hand and smiling brilliantly in her dazzlingly attractive way that melted the heart of anyone who met her.

"Isn't it just? The East Wing was built in the fifteen-hundreds as a small summer castle for the royal family and their relatives, the D'Arcys, and the rest of it was built about a hundred years afterwards, the family was Norman Royalty," she explained. "It's been in the Darcy family for centuries, it's very well-kept," she continued.

"I grew up in the area, and I used to come to Pemberley with my parents every Spring to see the flowers in bloom, do you still do the floral exhibition?" Maddie questioned, as they began to head towards the corner where the rest of the visitors were.

"Sadly no, the late Mrs Darcy was always the organiser, but since the Master is never really home he doesn't have time to plan it," she answered.

"Such a shame, Ella, you would have adored the show, the flowers were always so wonderful," Maddie said. "I remember going when I was seven years old, the sight of hundreds of thousands of cherry blossoms floating on the wind over the trees would just take your breath away," she said.

"Hmm, does the young Miss like cherry blossoms then?" Mrs Reynolds asked, with a twinkle in her eye.

"I love flowers. Cherry blossoms are my favourite, or maybe yellow daisies… or maybe even roses, everyone loves roses," she replied, softly rocking Erin. She was getting used to holding her, even though it still made her nervous.

"Young Wilhelm loves flowers, but he'd never admit it," Mrs Reynolds commented. "He likes cherry blossoms too, but he was so upset that they'd only be around for a few short weeks a year that he ordered some special hybrid ones, they last much longer," she added. "I should begin the tour then!" she said, turning to the guests. "Hello everyone, and welcome to Pemberley!"

Ella enjoyed the tour. The house was so stunning, beautifully adorned in the French Provincial style, with pale walls and gorgeous antique furniture, and yet elegantly understated. There was a certain vibe to the entire estate, it had a strong theme of the Victorian furniture and fabrics, the silk screen walls were a complete wonder in themselves. Ella felt like she had stepped into Marie Antoinette's _Petite Trianon_.

The gallery was just beautiful. It held a very good private collection of artworks from different artists, including Picasso, Monet, Derain, Matisse and Van Dyck, equal to any commercial art gallery. She strolled around, looking at all of the paintings and sculptures in wonder, many of which were portraits and busts of the Darcy family.

She stopped when standing before one particular portrait of a very familiar nature.

"He looks very handsome in this one, don't you think?" came a voice from behind. Ella turned her head and smiled at the friendly house keeper.

"Yes, quite," she replied softly. "When was it painted?" she asked curiously.

"Just before the death of Wilhelm's father, he was twenty-four," Mrs Reynolds replied. "He is quite an attractive fellow, isn't he," she commented.

"Yes, he – he's probably the most attractive man I've ever met," Ella said quietly, staring into his pale grey eyes.

"And he's not married, is that right?" came Maddie's voice from behind Mrs Reynolds.

"No, not as of yet," Mrs Reynolds replied, with a little bit of a laugh. "Several of his family members are pushing him to find a wife soon, however, because if he were to pass away unexpectedly, his entire fortune would probably go to his Aunt, rather than his sister's family," she explained. "And although Lady Catherine Bourg is a very wealthy lady, I'm afraid that such sums at her disposal will only cause a great deal of trouble," she added.

"Why can't he just write a will?" Ella asked curiously, adjusting the baby in her arms who decided that it was time to fidget.

"It's a complicated business, but essentially he needs to be married before he can write one, or else the fortune goes to the closest relative or guardian, and Lady Bourg became Wilhelm's split guardian after the death of his mother," she explained.

_Maybe that's the only reason why he wanted to marry you…_Ella thought silently, but pushed the thought from her mind. If he had wanted to, he could have just married Caroline Hurst, she was very eager to get her hands on him, and she was from his circle.

Suddenly, Erin's cries rung around the gallery, echoing off every surface (most of which were marble) and causing an awful racket. Ella tried to soothe the infant, but she refused to silence herself.

"Maybe I should take her outside," Maddie suggested over the screams.

"No, it's okay, I'll do it, I'll be back in a minute," Ella said, leaving the gallery and going out of the building. She rocked Erin side to side, trying to keep her silent, but she cried even louder. She started to walk, and that helped a little bit, so she strolled through the gardens with Erin held tightly in her arms. "_Please_ stop crying!" she begged desperately, but Erin still cried. "_Take this sinking ship, and point it home, we still have time," _she sung. "_Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice, you've made it known…_" she continued, as Erin's cries became softer. Ella sighed and kept on walking; she should have known that it would be Darcy's music that would soothe her.

She continued her walk through the garden, still rocking Erin until she was gurgling sweetly in the manner that babies do.

"You know, this place is really beautiful," she said conversationally to Erin. "Don't you think? It's so… I don't know, it's stunning," she muttered. She was near the end of the West Wing, and she knew that she wasn't allowed to go any further, because it was not a part of the tour. So Ella sat down on the ground with Erin, and adjusted her position, so that she could cross her legs and hold the baby loosely but securely. She sat for a little while, Erin blinking up at her and every now and then reaching a hand out, begging for attention.

Ella looked up when she heard a dog barking in the distance. She rose to her feet, and decided that it was about time she return to the tour, before it was completely over.

"Oh, I dropped your hat, Erin!" she said, seeing the cute pink handmade hat on the grass. "Hmm, this is going to be difficult, isn't it," she muttered, wondering if she should slip her foot out of her shoe to pick it up. She slowly lowered herself to the ground and stood back up again, putting the hat atop Erin's beautiful tuft of hair. "There we go, good as – oh! D – Darcy," she stammered, her eyes widening as she saw who was standing only a few metres away from her, wearing dark jeans and holding a wet shirt in his hands, completely drenched from head to foot.

"H – hi, Ella," he greeted, swallowing very obviously. "Umm, lovely weather we're having," he blurted out suddenly.

Ella took her own turn to swallow as her eyes looked over his fantastically shaped body, with well defined muscles that were neither slight nor grotesque. The water dripped down his chest, and from the ends of his hair, which was curling slightly from the sudden moisture.

"I – umm – err, in – indeed," she stammered, biting her lip softly, inwardly cursing whatever God was up there. She had _really_ screwed it up now.

**A/N: What happens next? REVIEW!! The song Ella sung to Erin is actually 'Falling Slowly' by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglo, it's an AMAZING song, something that has all of the complexity and amazing-ness that I think Darcy would have. I'm really coming along in the story now, I know exactly where it's going and I think that there will be a few surprises :D But I still love to hear ideas, comments, criticism and even rants about how thick-headed Ella can be, or how my writing is disintegrating every day… lol**


	28. awkward and a half

A/N: Well, Darcy is back

**A/N: Well, Darcy is back! Joy!**

Wilhelm Darcy awoke at a respectable time, considering that last night he hadn't really been… sober. He pulled himself out of bed, had a shower, shaved for the first time in weeks, had a cup of coffee and sat down in his study.

He was so sick of drinking! Any enjoyment would fade very soon, and he would feel awful the rest of the night, and most of the next day. He was so sick and tired of drinking to escape thinking of Ella! It was such an immature way to behave, and he knew it.

He turned on his laptop and picked up the phone with determination. It was time that he stopped ignoring life and his duties.

"Chris? Yeah it's me. No, I'm not drunk. We need to get back to work," he said firmly.

Several hours later he managed to put the phone down and close the last of the Internet windows, standing up and stretching his limbs. God, he had created a great deal of work for himself recently. After recording and releasing the mini EP he was rarely in a state of sobriety, so much so that the past few weeks, stretching into months had been a blur.

He wondered if she had heard his songs yet. Perhaps she listened to them, perhaps she liked them, perhaps she sat up at night wondering about the double meaning of '_My sweetest downfall'_.

He shook such thoughts from his head. The chances were she still hated him. He felt a stab of grief at his heart when he remembered the words she had said to him. '_Ever since you opened your mouth, your pride, conceit, vanity, your selfish distain for the emotions of everyone around you has made it perfectly clear to me that you are the last person on earth that I could ever marry_'…

He would run that conversation over in his mind for hours on end, looking into every little thing that she said, wondering if there was a loophole there somewhere, but he knew that it would come to nothing. _She_ cared nothing for him. It was a fact and he had to accept it.

He had a short lunch consisting of a BLT sandwich in the kitchen, the cook having taken the day off, before he decided to take a short walk, perhaps exercising Cody, his border collie.

The day was warm and fairly humid as he walked around the lake, Cody bounding around happily as Wilhelm tossed him a ball that he would return with haste. He wondered if perhaps he should go back to London. He had once heard Ella mention that she was going to spend the summer in Marseille, so it was unlikely that he would run into her. He _did_ have a very nice estate on the French Riviera, however, and he was very fond of the climate… She would be spending all her time in Marseille, right? Why would she go to the Riviera?

He pondered that thought as he continued to stroll, Cody chasing his own tail with enthusiasm. He knew that he couldn't spend the rest of his life dreaming about Ella Bennette, especially when he would see pictures and film clips and interviews of Canterbury Zimmerman every time he opened a paper or turned on the internet, he would hear her sing when he turned on the radio, her sweet, melodious voice, accented perfectly with an elegant French tone. Every time he closed his eyes he would see her before him, he would feel her skin against his own as he danced with her, the rest of the night melting away when she was in his arms. It would be pure, untainted, delicious torture, and it would drive him insane.

He knew that he had a duty to his family, to his heritage. But he didn't care. He would never marry; he knew that when he turned away from Ella. He would never have a child to inherit his billions, and it would probably go to waste very quickly. All he wanted was the one thing he couldn't have, and if he couldn't have her, he wouldn't have anyone.

He was not so simple as to hope that she would see sense. He had heard everything she had to say on the matter, he knew her determination and her spark. She would not be moved, she was far too stubborn. He sighed deeply at the thought. What hope did he have for the rest of his life? Before Ella his purpose had been to create music, to express himself, to live life the way he wanted, but everything changed when he met her. She turned his world completely upside down. He was happy in his bubble, in his comfort zone, before she popped the bubble and left him to lie on the floor, gasping for breath, his chest heaving and his pulse racing every time he thought of her.

She was supposed to be his reward for everything he had gone through to be with her, his family's objects and the traditions he was destroying, his place in society, the rank of a _Lord_ that he had to live up to, the expectations of his friends and colleges, not to mention the censure and recriminations that would result when the media discovered a relationship between a thirty-one year old man and a twenty-two year old woman.

She was supposed to be his _reward_, but instead her memory was his punishment. His punishment for the way he treated her, the way he acted, the pain he had caused Charles and Jayne, ever second she lingered in his mind was a reminder of the sins he had committed. She was his curse.

"Cody, come on, don't, you're wet," he laughed when Cody approached, trying to put his wet paws all over Wilhelm's shirt as he proudly clenched the ball in his mouth. "Cody, bad dog," he said a little more sternly. Wilhelm took a step back as Cody lunged at him to coat his face in sticky dog-saliva, his foot sliding in the mud, sending him flying backwards into the lake.

He spluttered and splashed in the water, it was only knee deep but he had been completely drenched, and Cody splashing around to cool down certainly wasn't helping.

"Cody! _Bad_ boy!" he snapped angrily, rising to his feet unsteadily. Cody bounded on obliviously, barking happily. Wilhelm groaned as he got back onto the bank, he was completely soaked, and Mrs Reynolds would kill him if he wandered through the front hall dripping water all over the place. He started over to the West Wing; he could go through the courtyard to use the showers in the pool house.

Bringing his troublemaking dog with him, Wilhelm started up the bank to the garden, water dripping from his jeans and shirt, which would probably have to be thrown out. His shoes were most likely beyond saving, so he slid them off and held them in his hand, grass wiping some of the water from his feet off. He pulled off his shirt as well; it was cold against his skin and felt like a weight on his chest.

He let the glowing sun press its warm fingers on his face, yellow patches of light shining through the large oak trees. He loved being at Pemberley. He had been so distracted that he could hardly bask in its beauty, but he now recalled all the reasons why he adored his childhood home.

He let his eyes flutter closed as he looked into his minds eye. He could just see Ella walking around the grounds, looking gorgeous in a pretty yellow sundress, her hair falling down her spine and glinting in the light, a child that could only be their's held in her arms as she softly sung to soothe it's cries. It would be paradise.

He made to open his eyes and awake from his paradise when he realised that he had never closed them at all. There was Ella, picking a knitted white baby hat up from the ground and putting it back on a small infant's head. His jaw dropped. He was dreaming. Surely he was only dreaming.

"There we go, good as – oh! D – Darcy!" she exclaimed, turning around to see him standing before her.

"H – hi, Ella," he managed to get out, in just as much shock as she was herself. Then his shock turned into misunderstanding, confusion and embarrassment. "Umm, lovely weather we're having," he blurted out to break the silence, but it only made things worse.

She looked divine. Her skin had taken on the lightest of golden tinges, a sun baked porcelain. Her Summery dress hung loosely off her shoulders and accentuated all the right things, and her curls looked absolutely perfect in the manner that they were arranged. She had changed her hair slightly. The fringe had been parted differently, to the side, and it ended with a little curl. He liked it.

"I – umm – err, in – indeed," she stammered, biting her lip in awkwardness. Wilhelm almost winced. He suddenly remembered that he was soaking wet, and not wearing a shirt. Not the way he wanted to look when he saw her again.

Neither of them said a word, simply staring back at each other with extreme mortification on their faces.

"I – I'm touring Northern England with my Aunt and Uncle," Ella blurted out suddenly. "My – my Auntie, she used to live around here, so she… wanted to see Pemberley…" she explained awkwardly, as Darcy nodded. There was a very clear longing in his eyes.

"A – and are you having a pleasant trip?" he asked, trying to sound calm and collected.

"It's – very pleasant," she managed to reply. "I – I love the house," she added, as he nodded slowly.

"Yes… it's…" he muttered, staring at his uncovered feet.

"I should go, I'm really sorry if I was intruding, but Erin was crying, and I just wanted a bit of fresh air, I'm _really_ sorry," she said quickly.

"No, it's okay! Don't go!" he urged her. "I – err, so… would you like to come inside for something to drink?" he asked her.

"I – I don't know if that would be…" Ella began.

"It's no trouble, it's a warm day and you probably shouldn't be outside for too long," he said. "Your Aunt and Uncle too, I'm sure that they'd appreciate it, and I could show you a bit more of the house," he suggested. There was a certain hopefulness in his voice that she found hard to deny.

"Okay, I guess," Ella replied, finally giving in.

"Great!" he said, smiling handsomely. "I'll just – go get changed," he said, blushing slightly. "I'll tell Mrs Reynolds to get you something whilst you wait," he added, the smile still not fading.

"Alright," laughed Ella.

"Come on Cody!" Wilhelm called to his dog, who barked happily (he had been inspecting a tree stump) and bounded towards his master. "I'll just… yes…" he muttered, before heading towards the courtyard, still blushing.

Ella breathed deeply in relief when he left, and held Erin a little closer.

"Come on then, let's go find your parents," she said softly to the infant, with the slightest of smiles on her face.

Ella headed back into the house, and went through the gallery to find Mrs Reynolds or her Aunt and Uncle, finally finding them about to go into the kitchens, where Mrs Reynolds was going to fix some refreshments.

"There you are Ella, Mr Darcy invited us to have tea with him personally, how very kind!" Maddie commented. "But I'm quite sure I know why," she added, noting Ella's blush.

"It was very nice of him," she replied nervously.

"I would have insisted you come for a cup of tea myself, you were so polite the first time we met," Mrs Reynolds commented. She then led them into the kitchen and pulled out a pitcher of ice tea, as it was too warm a day for a hot cup. She suggested that they drink it in the 'Screen Room', a parlour overlooking the gardens and the lake. It was semi-outdoors; it was more of an enclosed porch than anything else, with screens to protect the people and the comfortable white couches from rain damage.

Ella took a seat on one of the couches that allowed her the best look of the scenery, and accepted a cup of ice tea gratefully, chatting away with Mrs Reynolds like they had known each other for years. Maddie and Eddie also got along very well with her, and Maddie was able to question her as to the changes in the town since she had left.

"Hello again," was the introduction given when Darcy joined them, showered and clean, wearing a casual pair of pale jeans and a light, comfortable blue shirt that brought out his eyes nicely. He accepted a cup of iced tea from Mrs Reynolds and headed over to Ella's couch, as her aunt and uncle were occupying the other and Mrs Reynolds had the armchair.

"Hi," Ella muttered, still blushing slightly. Darcy thought she looked beautiful.

"So _this_ must be Erin-Grace then," he said, taking a seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. "I was with Ella when she first found out about the birth, congratulations, she's gorgeous," he said smilingly at her Aunt and Uncle. Ella almost quirked an eyebrow. He was so different! He knew full well that her Uncle owned a Building Design business; he would probably never even meet them under normal circumstances.

"Hmm… she's loud," Ella commented teasingly, adjusting her hold of the baby.

"May I?" Darcy requested, gesturing towards the child.

"Go ahead, my arms are getting sore," Ella replied, after an approving glance from her Aunt. She passed Erin over carefully, but Darcy seemed like a complete natural at the whole business anyway.

"Hello there gorgeous, aren't you adorable?" he said softly, her head in the crook of his elbow. Ella couldn't believe how at home he looked with a baby in his arms. He was more comfortable than she had ever seen him! She supposed that had something to do with the fact that he was at Pemberley, on his own turf, but she could also tell that something had changed in him. His arrogance and pride and conceit were almost gone, to erase them completely would probably rob his entire character, but he was somehow… sweet, kind; much gentler. He shifted her blankets slightly so that they weren't blocking her face, a strawberry-blonde curl slipping out from her beanie.

"She's not so adorable when she's waking up at three AM every night," Eddie laughed.

"She's cute, but satanic. She waits until I'm in the middle of my favourite song before she pulls the headphones out of my ears," Ella informed him.

"Stop complaining Ella, compared to _you_ when you were a baby she's an angel," Maddie pointed out.

"Really? Were you a bad-tempered baby then, Ella?" Darcy laughed, still rocking Erin softly.

"Lies. I was an angel," Ella replied pointedly, scowling at her Aunt, who had a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Edward and I first met when I was sixteen, I was on a holiday in France and staying with the Bennette's, my mother was a good friend of Sophia, and Edward was visiting his brother Jean-Baptiste, Ella's father, to help them out before the birth and everything," she began. "_Ella_ was stubborn and pig-headed right from the start, she didn't want to be born when everyone expected her to be, she wanted to surprise everyone three weeks early in the middle of the _biggest_ storm I've ever witnessed," she continued. "And ever since she got back from the hospital she would make a mess and cause as much mischief as possible," she informed everyone. "But Sophia would just take it all, and say that it was a sign of a creative mind, especially when you mimicked Jackson Pollock on the kitchen roof with your mashed apricots," she laughed.

"That's right, tease me, I was perfect," Ella responded, trying to keep the grin from her face.

"I actually remember you taking all the sand from the beach you could fit in your pockets into the bathroom and making your own 'ocean' in the bathtub when you were three," laughed Edward.

"Right… and _when_ can the embarrassing stories of my childhood cease?" Ella questioned.

"Ella dear, if you think making an ocean in the bathtub is embarrassing, you should hear the story of how young Wilhelm broke the soap dish in the nursery bathroom," Mrs Reynolds said with a twinkle in her eye, as Darcy blanched.

"Ah… isn't it a lovely day? Why don't we go for a walk? Erin is old enough to walk, right? Never too young to learn. Maybe she could go for a horse-ride. Wouldn't that be a wonderful distrac – I mean, err…." he said quickly, trying desperately to change the subject, much to the amusement of everyone assembled.

"It's terribly funny," Mrs Reynolds informed them, Darcy frowning.

"It was terribly _painful_," he muttered under his breath.

"That's quite alright, Mister Darcy, we won't ask," Maddie chuckled.

"Please, call me Will," he replied. Ella sipped her ice tea without comment. The change in him was extraordinary. She wondered if he had taken any of her words to heart… She hoped not.

Wilhelm was thoroughly enjoying himself, despite Abigail's attempts to reveal one of his more _embarrassing_ childhood anecdotes. He was very fond of the Phillips, even though he knew that Edward Phillips was involved in some sort of building or construction field. Their daughter was absolutely adorable, and they were very friendly people. He was well aware, and slightly ashamed to recall, that had it not been for Ella, he probably would never have spoken to them, and he would have missed out on some stimulating conversation with Edward, who had some brilliant business sense that he could certainly use.

But Ella looked beautiful. All of the hurtful things he had said and written in the _stupid_ letter he had given her came back at him and almost made him sick. He wondered if she had forgiven him… he doubted it. The expression on her face when she told him that she knew about his meddling in the affairs of Charles and her cousin told him everything he needed to know. There would be no forgiveness.

But he couldn't give up hope! All he had to cling to was the hope that someday he could have another chance with her, so he had to do all he could to better himself in her eyes. He wasn't aware, however, of just how much his plan was working. Ella could hardly stop thinking about the change he had undergone. He was such a different man, so changed! And his smile, it could melt even the coldest of women into a puddle on the floor.

"I _really_ liked those three new songs you did, Will," Maddie said a little later, when they were all on their second glass of iced tea.

"Thank you," Darcy replied, with a slight blush.

"I borrowed the CD off Ella, and I haven't been able to stop listening to it. I always loved your music, you must be so very clever to write lyrics like that!" she exclaimed, as he shrugged.

"I don't know about that," he responded modestly. Ella almost smiled. Humility. Something she had never thought that she would see him express.

"Oh, don't be so humble! How long have you been interested in music?" Eddie questioned.

"Since he was very small," Mrs Reynolds threw in. "Always making an awful racket on the piano or any other of his mother's instruments he could get his hands on," she recalled, smilingly.

"Yes, but I did eventually get lessons," Darcy pointed out in his own defence.

Ella enjoyed the afternoon. Maddie soon became anxious to return to the hotel to check on her children, but Darcy made them all promise to come to dinner the next night, even the children, so they could meet his sister and her family. Ella as eager to meet the famous Gina Fitzwilliam, having heard so many good reports as to her kind nature and impressive designing skills, and she was scarcely less eager to see Richard again, especially considering that she had never told him why they parted so quickly.

Darcy somewhat reluctantly handed Erin back to her mother, saying once more that she was very beautiful, before he bid Ella goodbye. She never really forgot the way he said goodbye in London; little did she know that she wasn't to see him again for a considerable amount of time. But this time, he squeezed her hand softly and met her eyes for a moment longer than expected or necessary amongst acquaintances or 'just friends'

"There's something you're not telling me about you and Darcy," Maddie instantly hissed the moment she could get Ella alone, which was back at the hotel as she searched for a book.

"We went to a few of the same parties! I saw him when he was visiting his Aunt, that's it!" Ella cried in defence, as Maddie only smirked.

"Thought so," she said, tapping her lips conspiratorially. Ella sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I've only told the full story to one other person, and now he and I aren't speaking to each other," she stated. "I don't want to tell anyone else until he and I have worked out our differences," she continued calmly.

"Well, I suppose I have to accept that then," Maddie sighed. "Which is a shame. You two looked lovely together," she informed her.

"Yeah, well you said that about someone else, too," Ella muttered bitterly. Just thinking about Malcolm made her insides shrivel up. She had been so mean to him! But he was being cruel to her and Jacques, as well.

"I did. It was true then, you _did _look good together, but it wasn't meant to be," she replied honestly. Ella sat down on her bed, giving up on finding the book.

"He's very attractive, isn't he," she commented, staring out the window. Maddie was quite startled by this sudden comment, frowning slightly as she replied.

"Yes, he is very handsome," she replied, with slight confusion.

"So was Jacques. But they look completely different," she added. "Jacques has blue eyes, and Darcy has grey. Jacques has brown hair and a beard, he looks like James Blunt, but taller. Darcy looks like a cross between Cillian Murphy and Johnny Depp," she continued thoughtfully.

"Yes… I had noticed," Maddie responded. "Listen, Ella, you keep telling everyone that you're over Jacques, but you… well, you just don't _seem_ like you are," she said delicately, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I know that everyone keeps telling me that he hurt me, and that he was nothing but bad news, and that we were never meant to be, but… I don't know. Maybe it's because I don't know what could have been with him but… I think that maybe, somehow, strangely, weakly, stupidly – I still _love_ him," she explained, pulling her legs under her body and keeping her gaze on the window. "I didn't know what to do when I came out of the hospital, everyone started making decisions for me, telling me that I had to go to London, that I had to do my degree by correspondence, that I couldn't see him anymore, and it hurt a lot, but I figured that… because of what had happened, maybe everyone was right. It hurt _so_ much to be taken away from him when I knew that neither of us wanted it to be that way, but I went through with it," she said quietly, with a degree of detachment that allowed her to speak freely for the first time in three years.

"I want to tell you that you're wrong, that he _is_ bad news, that he was the worst thing that ever happened to you and remind you that he almost killed you, but… you won't listen," Maddie said, her eyes searching Ella's face.

She looked so much like her mother. Sophia Christiana Fleur de Antoinette Bennette had been a very beautiful woman, a very strong woman, but Ella was something else entirely. Something Maddie felt a vibrancy; a life force, an _aura_ around Ella that would almost frighten her with its intensity. Nothing could extinguish the spark. The death of her mother, her father's paralysation, the abuse she faced from her aunt and Jacques – none of it could destroy the energy that radiating from her niece! It was extraordinary, but a very fragile thing, Maddie didn't want to see her hurt beyond repair. To see the life in her eyes go out would be the equivalent of an apocalypse.

"You're right," Ella said, still detached, but a tear had fallen from her brilliantly blue-grey eyes and dripped down her cheek, her voice had the undeniable tone of someone who was going to cry very soon, but didn't care. "I wouldn't listen," she admitted.

"Listen, if you're still hung up on Jacques, then maybe… I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe you should call him," she replied.

"I can't. Malcolm has forced him to get a new number, and I don't know it," she informed her.

"Ella, what I _really_ want is for you to forget about him," Maddie said. "If your mother was here right now, what do you think she would say?" she questioned.

"I have absolutely no idea, Aunt, because the topic of boys never came up in my thirteen years of knowing her," she practically snapped, as Maddie sighed.

"She would tell you that Jacques isn't the one. She would know, and because she's your mother, you would listen to her," she corrected.

"I'm tired, Auntie Maddie, I just want to go to sleep, I'll see you in the morning," Ella said, shifting her suitcase of the bed. Maddie sighed. She hadn't gotten through to her young niece.

She left the room quietly as Ella sat down on the window seat.

**A/N: Hmm, I'm really into the angst, aren't I? Well, I promise that more plot is coming, and Ella's much anticipated response to Darcy's songs, not to mention an older one that she did after she broke up with Jacques. I can assure you that despite what happens in the next few chapters, Ella **_**will**_** end up with Darcy, so don't worry about that. There will be a few twists and changes, but I'm a hopeless romantic at heart :D**

**Raye – I'm afraid you're worrying about entirely the wrong character's fate.**


	29. I'm better near to you

A/N: Loooong chapter now :D You see two songs of Ella's, one that she wrote recently and one that she wrote after her break up with Jacques

**A/N: Loooong chapter now :D You see two songs of Ella's, one that she wrote recently and one that she wrote after her break up with Jacques. I suggest you listen to both of them during this chapter :D **

**Near to You – A Fine Frenzy**

**Bleeding Love – Leona Lewis**

**I hope you're enjoying it :D**

Ella was actually nervous as they got out of the car and headed up to the doors of Pemberley. She had dressed nicely, a pretty pale pink lace blouse and a nicely fitting white skirt, her hair pulled up in a ponytail and her makeup light but flattering.

The children had all been forced to wear the 'going out' pair of clothes they had all brought, just in case they went to a very nice restaurant. Alice had been terribly excited when getting ready, but had thankfully refrained from wearing the bright pink love heart stockings she had grown so attached to, and her sparkly blue Ugg boots. Wendell and Sam had let their hair be brushed, but it came to very little, it was still a mass of wild and crazy curls.

"What if his sister hates me?" Ella hissed quietly to Maddie, who was straightening Erin's blankets as she walked.

"She won't," she replied simply, as Ella sighed.

"I wish I had your confidence all of a sudden," she muttered, as Wendell leapt up and rung the doorbell. The door was almost immediately answered by a maid, surprising almost everyone. Erin gurgled happily on regardless.

"Good evening. Mister Darcy and the Fitzwilliams are in the Front East sitting room awaiting you. May I take your coats?" the young girl asked pleasantly. Ella thanked her politely as she took her simple cardigan and the coats of Eddie, Maddie and the children.

"Now be on your _best_ behaviour," Maddie whispered to Alice, Sam and Wendell as the maid led them to the 'front East sitting room'.

"Yes Mum," they all replied in union, before shuffling over to Ella. They liked Ella. She gave them Bueono bars and Kinder Surprises when their mother wasn't looking.

Ella nearly jumped when she heard a loud squeal the moment that the maid brought them into the room. She was almost tackled to the ground by a ball of blonde energy, who was locking her into a tight hug.

"Oh my god, I've wanted to meet you for _ages_!" she exclaimed, smiling brilliantly. Ella knew that she could only be Wilhelm's sister. "Sorry I almost killed you, I'm Gina Fitzwilliam, Will's sister," she said quickly, Ella laughing slightly at her enthusiasm.

"Err – it's a pleasure to meet you, Gina," she smiled, shaking her hand warmly.

"Can I call you Canterbury? It's okay if you want me to call you 'Miss Zimmerman' though," she blurted out with haste.

"I can do one better, you can call me Ella if you want, Ella-Rosé if you'd like to be specific," she replied. Gina's eyes suddenly widened. She glanced back at her brother and mouthed something. Darcy was standing behind her with Richard, looking very nice, but still casual and comfortable. He nodded in response to Gina's unheard question.

"Ella! That's such a nice name, I love it!" she replied when she turned back to the person in question. "Come on then, sit down, I _really_ love your music," she said, leading her to the couch.

"Umm, this is my Aunt and Uncle, Maddie and Edward, and their children Alice, Sam and Wendell," Ella said, indicating the people behind her.

"Sorry, where are my manners? It's very nice to meet you," Gina said, smiling back at them before they introduced themselves to Richard, and the children to Darcy. "My kids are in the next room, would you like to go meet them? They're around about your age group, I know that you'd all get along really well," she said, kneeling down to the level of the children. They nodded quietly, trying to be polite, and shuffled into the next room.

"It's good to see you again Ella," Richard greeted, standing up and placing a hand on her waist for a second as he kissed each cheek.

"Ella," Darcy nodded, with a slight smile. He too kissed her cheek before they moved away, Ella being practically dragged to sit next to Gina.

"So, Will told me that you were touring the country," Gina began, smiling at the company around her.

"We're looking for a new house somewhere in Northern England, Ella is helping us have a look at some places and keep the kids happy," Maddie explained.

"I know what you mean, Richard and I have _heaps_ of trouble every time we even take the kids out to the movies, let alone across England," Gina replied.

Ella liked Gina. She was a very friendly, bubbly person with a wonderful smile and a kind word for everyone. It was hard for Ella to imagine that this girl had suffered such a brutal treatment from Gee Wickham, but she then knew enough of Gee's character to find it believable. It was very clear that Gina had a great deal of love for her brother, and he her. Gina joked a little with him, not quite as much as Richard did (those two seemed to be always bagging each other out), but to a degree that she had rarely seen anyone do to him.

"So Ella, tell me how you met my annoying big brother," Gina said, turning to her side.

"Umm, it was at Charlie's place, right?" Ella questioned, glancing over at Darcy, who nodded. "Yes, I met him at Charlie Bingley's house," she recalled smilingly.

"You know Charlie? That's great, he's really funny," Gina laughed. "So how did you meet him?" she questioned curiously.

"My cousin was engaged to him," Ella replied, as Richard's eyes widened.

"That was your _cousin_? But – then – I –" he stuttered, as Darcy sent him a quick glare that clearly said 'you are dead to me now.'

"It's okay, Richard," Ella smiled softly.

"Jayne is such a lovely girl, she spent some time with us in California before Erin was born," Maddie said, interrupting the sudden onset of awkwardness.

"Yeah, she is," Ella replied, with a small, bitter smile.

Wilhelm's heart nearly broke when he looked over at Ella. He hadn't really intended to hurt anyone; he only wanted to keep his friend safe from a gold digger. Now he wasn't even sure if Jayne _was_ just out for his money. Ella made it seem like Jayne had been deeply hurt by what he had done. He had never considered what _Jayne_ was going through; he had been so wrapped up in his loyalty for his friend and his adoration of Ella that her cousin's emotions didn't come into it. He wondered if _perhaps_, it hurt Ella too…

"Will! Wake up!" Gina cried laughingly, waving her hand before her brother's face.

"Oh, sorry," he muttered, sitting up.

"My brother is always like this, lately we haven't been able to get him thinking straight long enough to answer a simple question," Gina said apologetically, as Darcy gave a teasing scowl and poked his sister in the side. "Hey! Did you just poke me?" she questioned incredulously.

"Nope. Must have been Richard," he replied innocently, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

"You did too poke me!" she cried with great annoyance. "Bully! Pick on your poor innocent sister why don't you," she huffed.

"Well, if that's an invitation," Darcy replied, as he poked her again, and again, and again.

"Hey! Stop it! Mercy! Mercy!" Gina cried amidst pokes, Richard laughing his head off, Maddie and Eddie chuckling and Ella trying to muffle her own laughter.

"Why do you always call mercy?" Darcy questioned, sitting back in his chair, releasing Gina from her torture.

"Because you poke _really_ hard!" Gina replied, everyone still laughing.

"Not my fault you've gone soft," Darcy said, with a teasing, haughty detachment. "Ow! Hey, that hurt!" he cried, as soon as Gina started to jab him in the stomach. "Ouch! No, leave me alone you crazy woman! Help!" he cried, trying to fight her off. "Mercy! Mercy! I call mercy!" he managed out, as Gina relented. "That's abuse of your elders," he pointed out, but Gina only laughed along with everyone else in the room.

"Not my fault you've gone soft," she teased.

"Come on then, are you going to fight all night, just like when you were children, or are you going to come to dinner?" came a voice from the doorway. They turned to see an amused Mrs Reynolds leaning against the doorframe. "I apologise about them, they haven't changed at all in twenty years," she informed the guests.

"I'm taller," Darcy pointed out.

"So am I!" Gina objected, as Mrs Reynolds rolled her eyes.

"Dinner," she stated simply, before walking out of the room. The laughter died off as Gina and Darcy straightened their clothes, and everyone stood. Ella sent a small, slightly amused smile to Darcy, her blue-grey eyes twinkling brightly.

"So are you thirty-one or thirteen? I keep forgetting," she asked, as he rolled his eyes.

"I feel like I'm a hundred and thirty-one now, that girl can poke _really_ hard," he said, rubbing his stomach and laughing slightly.

"Ah well, maybe she was right, and you've gone soft," she teased, her eyes twinkling.

"I'd poke you too, but I'm twice your size, as you've already informed me, and Abigail thinks it's rude to abuse guests," he replied, as they started to move out of the sitting room.

"Abigail? You mean Mrs Reynolds? So do you _always_ answer to your baby sitter?" she questioned with a glint of playfulness in her eyes as she followed her Aunt and Uncle to the dining room, leaving an intrigued, impressed, and mocked Darcy in her wake.

Dinner was a very nice affair. They served a vegetarian meal (for Ella's benefit, of course) and the children had their own table (Ella found that Christian and Alexandria were very lovely children, but not quite tall enough to sit at the dining table), where they could chat happily about nothing and everything.

"So how long will you all be staying in Derbyshire?" Gina questioned during the meal.

"Five more days," Eddie replied. "Then we're going back to London, we still have a lot of houses to look at though," he added.

"Yes, Will mentioned that you're looking for a new place, any reason?" Richard questioned.

"We're tired of California. It's a lovely place, but the kids have spent hardly any time in England, and we want them closer to their family," he replied, after sipping his wine.

"So what kind of business are you in, Mr Phillips?" enquired Darcy, looking over the table. Ella tensed slightly, but his tone suggested that he was curious, not insulting.

"Well, to be very vague and simple you could say that it's an architecture business, but that's a very crude way of looking at it," he answered. "And call me Ed, I still feel like 'Mr Phillips' is my father," he chuckled, as Darcy nodded.

"Oh no, you're not talking shop, Wills," Gina said sternly, looking over at her brother, and then leaning forwards to Ella. "He could talk about business and work for the rest of his life, I can always tell when he's about to start," she informed her.

"I'll keep that in mind," Ella laughed.

"Don't listen to her," Darcy replied, sending a teasing glare at his sister. "She's a bully," he informed her, as Ella smiled.

"I'm sure…" she responded with playful sarcasm.

Gina wasn't a stupid woman. So when she saw the way that Ella and her brother looked at each other, she realised that despite her brother's recent behaviour there was definitely something there. She noticed the way that they stared at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking, and the way that when they met each other's eyes they smiled and didn't turned away much later than necessary. Something was going on between the two of them, she could tell.

Dinner went on for a while; it was filled with conversation and humour, and a warm atmosphere that Ella had never associated with Darcy. He was stoic, reserved on the edge of indifference, and from what she could tell, disliked parties a great deal. But he appeared very comfortable, polite and even amiable. The change in his personality was extraordinary.

"Ella! How about I show you around a bit," suggested Gina as they left the dining room. "We could start the tour in the music room. It's upstairs, but it's worth the trip," she said brightly.

"Ignore my wife, she's trying to encourage a performance," Richard said, coming up by Ella's side.

"Of course I am, Richard," Gina replied, playfully whacking him on the arm. "But _I_ was being subtle about it," she added, as Richard rolled his eyes.

"It's okay, I'd be happy to play something for you if you want," laughed Ella, as Gina's eyes shone.

"Really? Oh that would be wonderful!" she cried. "Will! She said that she'd play something for us!" she said excitedly to her elder sibling, who smiled in a manner that suggested he had put up with Gina's exuberant personality for years. "And I _didn't_ force her to, either, if that's what you're about to suggest," she added.

"Gina, as stubborn and convincing as you are, you'd probably never be able to make Ella do something she didn't want to do," he replied.

"I wasn't taking any credit! Come on, the kids are playing with Mrs Reynolds, let's use your music room," she said, pulling Ella by the hand to the grand master staircase, her brother, husband, Maddie and Eddie chuckling behind her.

"Gina, don't pull on her!" Will said sternly, but his sister only rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I'm being gentle," she said, whilst Ella laughed, perfectly happy to be pulled along, but at a slower pace so she could admire the beautiful house. She looked around in complete awe. The marble floors and staircase, the gorgeous wooden hand-carved banisters, the silk-screen walls and the elaborate, but beautiful and tasteful roof with all of its ornamentation.

"You look like a goldfish," Darcy commented, coming up behind Ella as he noticed her gazing around in awe.

"I can't believe you live here," she said softly. "It's so – words don't describe it," she muttered.

"You like it?" he asked her hopefully.

"I adore it. I'd try to but it off you but I doubt you're selling, and I doubt that I'd ever have enough money for a place like this," she replied, as they headed up the second staircase.

"I'd never sell this place. I grew up here, my father grew up here, my grandfather grew up here, it's a home," he said with warmth.

"And I'm sure the next generation of Darcy's will love it too, and the ones after that, and after that," she trailed off, her tone still playful. He bowed his head quickly. He knew that there would never be another generation of Darcy's, not unless… but he had almost given up on that hope.

"This is a fantastic building," Edward commented, as Darcy turned around to enter into conversation with him. Ella glanced back. She had seen the way he reacted when she said 'the next generation', he hadn't given up on ever getting married of having children because she had rejected him, had he? She pushed the thoughts from her head when Gina led her to the music room. Or rather, all thought slipped away from her mind the moment she stepped in.

"Will spends most of his time in here, it's really his space," Gina commented, but Ella barely heard as she looked around in wonder.

The room was decorated differently to the rest of the house, which followed the French Provincial style of understated white furniture and walls to give the house a soft feel, and much more like the warmth and handsome appeal of the London townhouse she had spent the night in. The walls were wooden panels up to about halfway, before it was a nice rich green, the floors were polished hardwood and there was a fireplace, a couch or two, it all had a very masculine feel around it, but still of the upmost taste.

And good heavens, the instruments. In the centre of the room was possibly the most gorgeous gleaming black grand pianos she had ever seen, she recognised the brand as one of the best handmade piano makers in the world, she had only ever seen one before in real life because they were so rare. They left Steinway in the lurch. The walls were covered with guitars, she recognised Gibson, Fender, Epiphone, Gretsch, acoustics, electrics, bass', twelve-strings, she counted almost twenty of them all together. There was a massive cello and a beautiful white violin, a very high-tech keyboard and an entire mini-recording studio, it was incredible. Like a music haven, complete with a giant stereo system and a _very_ complex looking system for editing and synthesiser effects, it was incredible. She could understand immediately why he spent most of his time in there. She looked over at the drum set appreciatively, the sticks placed meticulously on the seat.

"Now I know what heaven looks like," Ella laughed when she gazed around. "Wow, this is… amazing," she gasped softly, her eyes meeting Darcy's. He blushed slightly in the paradise he had created all of that wonderful music in, and encouraged Ella to pick an instrument.

"Go on, play something," he urged her.

"Oh yes, _please_," Gina begged, taking a seat at one of the comfortable looking couches placed strategically around the room. "Play something new," she begged.

"Well, I _was_ working on something, but I haven't played it yet," Ella replied awkwardly.

"You mean we can be the first people to hear what's probably going to be another major hit in music history?" Gina asked, her eyes shining. "That's great!" she cried, as Ella laughed, and headed over to the piano.

"Okay, umm…" she muttered, sitting down, noticing that everyone else had taken their seats and were waiting patiently. "Well, it sounds alright in my head, but… yeah, it's called 'Near to you'," she explained awkwardly.

"Anyone you wrote it for?" Richard asked curiously. Ella couldn't help but glance at Darcy.

"Umm… I guess," she replied, wringing her hands, nervousness filling her. She placed them on the piano, and began to play the tune she had memorised in her mind, but was new to her fingers.

"_He and I had something beautiful_

_But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last_

_I loved him so, but I let him go,_

_But I know that he loved me back_

_Such pain as this_

_Shouldn't have to be experienced_

_I'm still reeling from the loss,_

_Still a little bit delirious_

_Near to you, I am healing_

_But it's taking so long_

_Cause though he's gone _

_And you are wonderful _

_It's hard to move on_

_Yet, I'm better near to you_

_You and I have something different_

_And I'm enjoying cautiously_

_I'm battle scarred, I am working oh so hard_

_To get back to who I used to be_

_He's disappearing_

_Fading slowly_

_I'm so close to being yours_

_Won't you stay with me,_

_Please?_

_Near to you, I am healing_

_But it's taking so long_

_Cause though he's gone _

_And you are wonderful _

_It's hard to move on_

_Yet, I'm better near to you_

_I only know that I am _

_Better where you are_

_I only know that I am_

_Better where you are_

_I only know that I belong_

_Where you are_

_Near to you, I am healing_

_But it's taking so long_

_Cause though he's gone _

_And you are wonderful _

_It's hard to move on_

_Near to you, I am healing_

_But it's taking so long_

_Cause though he's gone _

_And you are wonderful _

_It's hard to move on_

_Yet, I'm better near to you_

_Yet, I'm better near to you_"

She stopped playing and stared at the keys when she felt the song was finished. She didn't hear the praised and clapping from her small audience, she simply stared at the piano with a slightly pained expression. She had never written a song that was so… normally she would fiddle and rearrange and change before she found the tune, but that song just slid into position, everything fit, like pieces of a puzzle. It was a very strange sensation.

Had she said everything she wanted to say? She didn't feel like it, somehow. There were a million and one things she wanted to say to both Jacques and Darcy, but all she had said was that Jacques had hurt her, and she wasn't ready for another man yet, but… Darcy made the pain feel weaker, made it feel like she was stronger, she was better when she was near to him. That was what she had wanted to say, and she had said it.

She looked up at the man that was swimming in her thoughts. He looked like someone had stabbed him in the heart, but had also told him that he had won the lottery. The expression on his face was almost unreadable, but Ella could just glimpse some of the emotion on there. She saw hurt, most of all.

"Excuse me," Darcy said suddenly, standing up, and leaving the room with haste. Gina was so wrapped up in the performance that she didn't observe it, but it certainly didn't escape Ella's notice. He knew that the song was about him in part, she could tell. But… he didn't know about Jacques.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have seen? He angrily wiped a tear from his face; he didn't know how it had gotten there. Everything had been so perfect before, so wonderful, and then…

'… _y__ou aren't the first one to fall in love with her… she's had a bad history with men like you and I don't want to watch her heart break again…_'

He recalled the conversation with some purple-headed band member of Ella's when he was at the party the record company was throwing for Kipling and The In Section. He implied that Ella had been in love with another man before him, and that song made it clear that they were in a relationship. He didn't pay attention to where he was going, but soon enough he felt the cool night air on his face, and saw the lake before him, his feet leading him to the small bridge surrounded by weeping willows, the reflection of the moon shining on the dark surface of the water.

Another man had – had loved Ella before him. _She_ had loved another man, she probably still did!

'_It's about falling in love when you're just a kid, and realising that it doesn't matter how you feel, the rest of the world thinks you're just a silly child… riding the boy's bike is being in love, the 'storeman' is the rest of the world telling m – her to be careful… I – she felt like he was God, like he was wonderful and divine until she realised that he wasn't_…'

Jealousy was running through every vein of his body. It was pulsing and blinding him as he paced angrily, turning her words over in his head.

'_Do you know what it feels like to be taken away from the one person you want to be with by someone else, someone who doesn't know what they're doing… waking up every morning knowing that today won't be the day you'll see them again, neither will tomorrow, or the next day, or ever?'_

Why had he even tried? She was probably still hung up on whoever this person was who broke her heart! God, it was tearing him apart, just feeling that way. He let out an angry cry as he fell to his knees, feeling the soft wood of the bridge through the material of his trousers. He ran a hand through his hair as he adjusted his seating, his long legs dangling over the side of the bridge, his forehead resting against the bridge's frame as he stared at the water.

It all made sense. He understood songs that she had written that had previously confused him; he could understand her music on a completely different level. Suddenly a particular song jammed itself into his head, he had heard it on the Kipling DVD, it was never recorded, but there was early footage from a live performance of it. He closed his eyes and ran over the lyrics in his head, thinking…

Ella hadn't felt ready to perform that night. She had only been out of the hospital for a while, and London was still a frightening concept. She understood that Kipling was growing in its popularity, but she wanted to throw it all away. She just wanted to be with Jacques, she didn't want to sing or write or perform anymore.

"Come on Ella, we're on," hissed Charlotte, pulling her friend onto the stage, under the bright purple lights, the people in the club looking up in interest. The London following wasn't as large or as full-on as the French fans, but they had heard '_All along the Watchtower_' and '_Stupid Song_' and wanted to hear more.

"Hi, umm, we're Kipling, this is The In Section, and we're going to start off with a very new song," Charlotte said, as Ella edged herself towards the piano, avoiding eye contact. Charlotte was being considerate, but not considerate enough. But when the music started, none of that mattered anymore; it was just Ella and the rest of the room. She _owned_ that song, it was hers, it was a part of her heart, and she was sharing it with the world.

"_Closed up from love,_

_I didn't need the pain_

_Once or twice was enough,_

_And it was all in vain_

_Time starts to pass,_

_Before you know it you're frozen_

_But something happened for the very first time with you_

_My heart melted to the ground,_

_Found something of truth_

_Everyone's looking round,_

_Thinking I'm going crazy_

_But I don't care what they say,_

_I'm in love with you_

_They try to pull me away,_

_They don't know the truth_

_My heart's crippled by the vein_

_That I keep on closing_

_Cut me open and I,_

_Keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_You cut me open_

_Trying hard not to hear,_

_But they talk so loud_

_Their piercing sounds fill my ears,_

_Try to fill me with doubt_

_Yet I know that the goal is to keep me from falling_

_But nothing's greater than the rest that comes with your embrace_

_And in this world of loneliness I see your face_

_Yet everyone around me thinks that I'm going crazy,_

_Maybe, maybe…_

_But I don't care what they say,_

_I'm in love with you_

_They try to pull me away,_

_They don't know the truth_

_My heart's crippled by the vei__n_

_That I keep on closing_

_Cut me open and I,_

_Keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_You cut me open_

_And it's draining all of me,_

_And they find it hard to believe_

_I'll be wearing these scars for everyone to see_

_But I don't care what they say,_

_I'm in love with you_

_They try to pull me away,_

_They don't know the truth_

_My heart's crippled by the vain_

_That I keep on closing_

_Cut me open and I,_

_Keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_Cut me open and I,_

_Keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_I keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_

_You cut me open and I,_

_Keep bleeding, keep_

_Keep bleeding love_"

That song was one of heartbreak, cruel, intolerable heartbreak.

Darcy snapped back to reality. But when her words came back to him he wanted to crouch into a small ball and die, she sung of injustice in the relationship, every time she said '_I'm in love with you_' it was another dagger in the heart.

He didn't know when she came out to find him. He doubted she had been sent, but she still wanted to find him. She silently took a seat next to him, her own legs dangling over the side, the moonlight reflecting off her ivory skin and causing her eyes to shine dazzlingly.

"I don't share," he said suddenly, not even sure why he had said it. He looked up from the water's surface and to Ella's face. She was watching a waterlily float silently in the lake.

"In general?" she asked, with the slightest of smiles.

"I – you know what I mean," he replied. "I don't share," he repeated quietly.

"I'm not a doll or an action figure or a toy car, I'm a person," she informed him softly.

"I would never treat you like a toy, Ella," he replied.

"I listened to your songs," she informed him, after a pause. "I liked 'Face', but some of the lyrics were a little… personal," she managed to add.

"Oh… I – I didn't think you'd listen to it," he muttered painfully, recalling what was in the songs that had unnerved her so. He almost winced.

"That's okay," she replied. "So you heard it," she stated, gripping the edge of the wooden plank she was sitting on.

"I heard it," he confirmed quietly, giving no explanation, no defence, no lies.

"You left the music room after I played 'near to you', but you couldn't tell me that you listened to me play the _one_ song I didn't want anyone to hear," she continued, with pain in her voice.

"I – the song you played tonight, it was just…"

"_What_? Was it that bad?" she questioned sharply, with enough sarcasm to let him know that she knew he didn't think the song was bad.

"How do you think I'm supposed to feel when you sing a song saying that you're in love with another man, and my only value is that I make you feel just a tiny bit better?" he questioned her, in slight anger.

"Do you know what that means?" she asked sharply. "You make me feel better – _no one _has been able to do that," she continued. "You've been writing lyrics like '_I want to see her naked over there_', and you criticise what I've been writing?" she asked. "Then you go and name you're CD 'My Sweetest Downfall', did you think that I would realise that you listened to me play it?" she questioned.

"I – I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry," he repeated quietly.

"It's okay," she replied softly. He looked over at her. She was still looking out into the water, a look of almost longing in her eyes. He took her tiny hand in his and squeezed it softly. She glanced back at him with a tiny smile. There was still a little bit of pain in her eyes. He didn't let go of her hand, but they both turned back to the water, staring at its surface.

Ella sighed.

"Darcy?" she said quietly, not sure if he heard her. He looked very deep in thought.

"Ella?" he replied, waking up from his musings.

"I'm not for sharing," she told him softly, as he gave a tiny smile.

"I'm glad," he replied, squeezing her hand in his once again.

**A/N: Wow, 14 pages… I really love you guys! And yes, maybe 'Bleeding Love' is a little bit pop, but I love the song, and my band and I play it CONSTANTLY, which is really a bit of a feat because normally we play indie stuff… Please review, show your love!**


	30. I'm asking you to stay

A/N: And this is where the plot starts to unfold, and we go a little bit AU from the original story

**A/N: And this is where the plot starts to unfold, and we go a little bit AU from the original story. A fairly long chapter again, I hope you enjoy it! Some of you may wonder, 'where did Pemberley go?', but don't worry, I didn't just skip a chapter :D Stay tuned! **

**Mrs Dom Masbolle– I know that this chapter is going to be absolute torture to you, and unfortunately so will the next few, but don't worry! It just makes the ending even better!**

Ella felt like she was going to be sick. Her stomach felt like it had shrivelled up and died inside of her, she knew that her skin was pale and she felt dizzy. All she could do was just try and process things.

"Ella, you have to eat," Jayne said quietly, soothingly.

"I'm not hungry," she replied.

"Ella, you haven't eaten since you got back to London," Jayne continued sternly.

"I'm not hungry," she repeated.

"Ella, you've got to eat!" Jayne cried, as Ella ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

"Stop worrying about me! We have plenty to worry about right now and I'm not at the top of the list!" she snapped, sitting back in the chair. A loud sob was heard from upstairs. "See? Aunt Fran is crying again. That's your cue," she said, as Jayne sighed.

"I'll be down soon, _eat_ something," she practically ordered, before turning towards the hall and heading upstairs.

Ella pulled her legs beneath her body and leant her head back, swimming in her thoughts for a moment.

_Possession of a Class A substance._

_Illegally distributing pornographic images and video._

Those were the charges that warranted Lye Gardiner's arrest. The charges that were against Gee were never-ending, but she didn't even want to contemplate them, she wanted Lye to turn herself in or for the police to find her. She hated _waiting_.

"Mum had these in her room. Throw them out, would you?" Jayne said, awakening Ella from her musings as she handed her cousin a pile of magazines, then headed back upstairs to tend to her mother.

Ella looked down at the magazines and almost groaned as she flipped through the headlines.

'CANTERBURY'S COUSIN SHOWS ALL – INTERNET SEX TAPE SCANDAL'

'LYE GARDINER – TRT OR TROUBLED YOUTH?'

'SUPERMODEL JAYNE GARDINER'S SISTER – OOPS, SHE DID IT AGAIN.'

'HEROIN BUST – CANTERBURY'S COUSIN GONE BAD'

She threw all of the magazines into the trash angrily. She hated what Lye had done. She hated it more than she thought she could ever hate anything. She angrily kicked the garbage bin and ran a hand through her hair, swearing in French, Arabic, cursing her _stupid_ cousin for getting caught up with _Gee Wickham_.

She had a terrible, sinking feeling in her stomach that told her it was _her_ fault that Lye had slipped off the tracks. Ella herself had run away from home, but to go to University, not to live with some junkie and to star in pornographic movies. And Lye never would have gone to live with Gee had she known what trouble that man was!

"Ella! Eat something!" came a cry from the top of the stairs, before Jayne headed back into her mother's room, wails and cries of 'oh my poor daughter' slipping out of the door.

Ella glanced at her reflection in the microwave door. She was very pale, and had dark circles around her eyes. She hadn't eaten for… when did she get into London? On the Friday, and it was Sunday… She hadn't eaten for two days, but she didn't think she could put anything down.

She felt sick at the memory of Derbyshire. They had been there six days before Ella received the phone call. That phone call had ruined everything. It had ruined her holiday, it had ruined her new-found friendship with Gina, it had ruined that little spark of whatever was there with Darcy; everything else was fast slipping away.

She sat down on the couch and supported her head with her hands as she tried to think through the situation. She wanted to look for Lye. She wanted to be a part of the investigation, she would knock on every door in London if she had to, she just wanted Lye back so that she could hit her over the head and let her know how stupid her actions were.

"Hi Ella," came a greeting as the front door opened. Ella looked up, it was May.

"I thought you were living with Malcolm now!" Ella said as she jumped up and pulled May into a tight hug. "It's been so long since I've seen you!" she cried.

"I know. You won't talk to _me_ because you know that Malcolm will be there," she replied pointedly. "Do you know what hell he's going through? He hates himself – he hardly sleeps, he hardly eats, he's always muttering and _constantly_ on the verge of tears, he thinks you hate him!" May continued sharply. "You _know_ how much he loves you, you _know _that you're halfway between a sister and a niece to him, you mean more to him than anything and he thinks that you despise him!" she cried.

"That's not true, _you_ mean more to him than anything," Ella interrupted.

"And you look terrible! Have you lost weight or something? When was the last time you ate?" May questioned as Ella rolled her eyes. "Or slept?" she added.

"I don't know," shrugged Ella. "I assume you know all the details of the investigation," she said, as May nodded. "I'm going to make tea. I don't know why, but that always seems to work. Make tea and people feel better," she rambled on, heading to the kitchen. She turned around to ask May if she wanted a cup, and stopped in her tracks.

"I want him here, Ella," May said, as Ella's eyes sharpened. Malcolm _did_ look terrible. He looked tired and miserable, standing behind May with his hands in his pockets.

"Hi," he said simply. Ella turned back to the kitchen, ignoring him. She put the kettle on and pulled out some mugs, not looking back at him. "Listen, Ella, I feel awful, and I just wanted to say –" he began, before Ella cut him off.

"You feel awful?" she questioned angrily. "_You_ feel awful?" she repeated. "_I_ felt awful every day for _three fucking years_, Malcolm!" she cried. "And the worst thing is that you _knew_ that!" she continued, her face loosing the little colour it still had as her eyes flashed defiantly. She tilted her chin forwards, a sure sign that she was not in a happy mood.

"The guy almost killed you, Ella!" Malcolm objected. "You were falling apart, I almost had to watch you die because of him!" he cried.

"I died every time that you told me he didn't want to see me anymore! I died every time that I would reach out and not find him there, and you think that what you went through was so painful?" she questioned him, a tear slipping out of her eyes, running past the waterproof eyeliner that had been smudged on days ago and was almost impossible to remove.

"I had to do something," he said, not meeting Ella's brilliantly blue eyes with his own hurt brown ones. "In the long run it will have done you good," he continued, nervously running a hand through his hair. May watched the two with apprehension. She didn't know what to do; she knew full well that sometimes fighting with Ella was useless. "Did you really want to feel the way you felt with Jacques for the rest of your life? Feel all of that hurt?" he asked her.

"You have _no_ idea about the way that I feel – if you gave a _damn_ you would be able to see that I go through hell every day, it's a million times worse than any pain I felt when I was with him," she practically spat. "What would you know about it anyway? You love May, and May loves you. Do you have _any_ idea what I would do for a relationship that simple? I _had_ it, Malcolm, I _loved_ Jacques and he loved me – maybe he still does, but it's not like you'd ever let me find out!" she cried.

"I was the one that was looking out for you! I was the one that helped you, who did you run to when Jacques hit you? You came to me!" he responded, his voice rising in its anger and volume.

"If you were the one that was looking out for me you would let me see him again," she replied coolly, digging her nail into her palm to stop herself from crying again. "You wouldn't have taken me away from him! He – I loved him! Didn't that matter at _all_?" Ella questioned with desperation.

"Don't you get it? He was the worst thing that ever happened to you!" Malcolm responded, trying to get the message through to her. "I know that your Aunt hit you, but –"

"Mum hit you?" May interrupted. She looked at Ella with an expression of complete shock. "No. She wouldn't," she said calmly.

"May, could you give your cousin and I a minute?" Malcolm asked, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Don't bother," Ella said, standing up and walking past Malcolm to the door.

"Wow Ella, you've never run away from anything before, I'm disappointed," Malcolm said sarcastically. His words achieved their desired effect. Ella turned around slowly. She heard a car pull up from behind, but she didn't care. She had to finish things.

"I've been running every fucking day since I was thirteen years old. Don't you _dare_ assume that you have any knowledge of me anymore – there is no friendship between you and I anymore," she said defiantly.

"Ella, I –"

"No, Malcolm! You can't just challenge me and expect that I'm going to let you change my mind – you screwed up. My _whole_ life people have been trying to make decisions for me, who should raise me, where I should live, what I should and shouldn't know – you crossed a line when you tried to control who I love," she said steadily, but still with anger and much more emotion than Malcolm had wished to evoke. "You can take me away from the man that I love, you can lie to me and destroy all lines of communication, but I am _NOT_ a child! This is my life, and I'll live it with whoever I God damn please," she continued.

There was a look of pure venom in her eyes that would make any other man crumble in his boots. She wanted Malcolm to give up – he always did when they were children. She wanted him to say sorry. She didn't want to hate him, but she did for what he had done.

"You're making the biggest mistake of your life!" he cried. "If you go back to him, I swear to God –"

"_What_? You'll drag me out of a hospital and shove me on a plane to London?" she questioned pointedly. "I can't believe you! I can look after myself, I've been doing it since I was thirteen years old and I don't need _you_ to help me, all you're doing is making me pity myself!" she cried.

"I'm doing what's best for you! _Despite_ what you think, Ella-Rosé Bennette, you're only twenty-two years old. You're barely an adult, and you've proven to the world previously that you still require a caretaker!" he replied angrily.

"I _hate_ you!" she cried, stepping forwards. "I hate you! You've destroyed everything that I had, you took me away from him and I will _never_ forgive you for that!" She was still squeezing her hands tightly, she felt blood slide out of her palms but she ignored it.

"You're being an idiot! You were an idiot about Paris, about Jacques, about _Darcy_ –" Malcolm cried.

"Don't you _dare_ bring up Darcy! He – what do you know? You don't know anything about him!" she snapped.

"I know that you made a mistake about Darcy, your stupid pride, he's a good person and you let him just walk away!" Malcolm cried, as Ella ran a hand through her hair, tears of anger sliding freely down her face.

"Shut up, shutup, _shutup_!" she snapped angrily.

"So he said something stupid when you first met, what makes Jacques better than Darcy?" Malcolm questioned, sensing that there was something there that he needed to know.

"Because Jacques loves me back!" she cried, Malcolm falling into silence. Her eyes were pleading, wide and afraid as she stared back at him.

_He wouldn't stop looking at her. She was perfectly aware that his eyes didn't leave her form, but she ignored it as she sipped some of her iced tea. It was a warm day, and Pemberley looked beautiful. Both the Phillips and the Fitzwilliam children were playing tip on the lawn, Richard and Edvard discussing 'shop' as Gina called it, who was talking to Maddie as they watched the children laugh and run. Ella sighed happily, and lay back on the picnic blanket that had been spread out, her eyes fluttering to a close as she listened to the almost-summer day. _

_She wore a pale green sundress, the light material sliding over her skin, which had reached a nice colour, still pale, but of a sun kissed nature. She didn't care if Darcy was looking at her. When he looked at her she felt beautiful, and there was another emotion that she recognised from her first few meetings of Jacques. In a strange way, she almost wanted him to look at her. But for now, she just wanted to relax, let her troubles drift away…_

_She felt him softly push a lock of her chocolate brown hair from her face, and smiled softly, not opening her eyes. His touch was a very pleasant experience. He traced the outline of her jaw with two of his fingers, as if he was committing her to memory. She didn't open her eyes when she felt his lips press against her own, but unlike the time when he stole a kiss from her a month or two ago she kissed him in response. _

_She didn't know how long the kiss lasted. She knew that as some point, he had kissed a trail from her lips, up to under her earlobe, across her jaw and back to her mouth again, she knew that he had placed a hand on her waist and ran the ribbon trying her dress through his fingers, she knew that he smelt like clean linin, pretty Indian soap, grass and something decidedly masculine, and that his lips tasted like iced tea, but most thought drifted from her mind in the kiss. At one point, she recalled being grateful that the children were playing tip a fair distance away, in the shade, and it was unlikely that they would interrupt anything. _

_He knelt his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent of wild strawberries and lilies, and the slightest hint of chocolate. She adored chocolate. _

"_Open your eyes," he whispered softly. Ella complied, and her sparkling sapphire and diamond eyes met his. He could count every single coal-black eyelash, see every pale brown freckle and even the slightest hint of sparkle from her morning moisturiser, and it thrilled him. He had given up on the hope of being that close to her, but there they were, lying on a picnic blanket, kissing in the late Spring sunshine. _

"_You're very beautiful," she replied quietly, as he frowned softly._

"_Not handsome?" he asked teasingly, but she only shook her head._

"_No," she answered. "No, you're… beautiful," she murmured. _

"'_Words cannot describe what I see before me, 'tis more than beauty, 'tis more than heart or soul can comprehend, 'tis the breaking of the morning, 'tis the evening star sending its last shine over the velvet sky, 'tis the deepest ocean and the highest mountain. I see all of this in your eyes, taste it in your kiss, feel it in your touch'," he whispered, lowering his lips to her ear. "'All that I see before me is love'," he finished._

"What, and Darcy doesn't love you?" he snapped.

"He made that pretty clear to me, thank you very much!" she replied pointedly.

"You're acting like a seven year old," he added shortly.

"You're acting like a pompous, over-controlling, arrogant prick!" she screamed. "All of you are! Screw Kipling and London and Darcy and Jacques and Lye and Gee Wickham – you can all go to hell!" she cried, turning away too quickly for Malcolm to stop her, fully prepared to run down the street and never look back. She hadn't counted on there being backup, however.

Michael Gardiner was a very strong man, as was Edvard Phillips, and together they could easily grab Ella to stop her from running. She hadn't noticed them drive up and get out of the car; she had been too bust arguing with Malcolm.

"Get _off_ me! Let me _go_!" she cried loudly, pulling against their hold.

"I'm not letting you do this again!" Malcolm cried. Ella screamed angrily and struggled violently, trying to get out of the strong grip of her two uncles.

"Let _go_! Leave me alone! I'm going back to _France_!" she screamed.

"Stop _struggling_!" said Michael Gardiner commandingly.

"_No_!" responded Ella. "Let me _go_!" she cried. "What are you going to do? Strap me down and _make_ me stay?" she asked, digging the heel of her shoe into her Uncle Michael's foot.

It worked. Michael let go of Ella and she fell to the ground, Eddie unprepared.

"How _dare_ you?" Ella cried, raising herself to her feet. The blood on her hands was sticky, warm and mixed with dirt from the ground, but she didn't care. "I'm not some child!" she snapped angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she questioned.

"We – found – Lye," Michael said, gasping for air. He was a large, balding man with a big belly, and the struggle had left him breathless.

"You found her?" May cried; hurrying over to her father and pulling her arms tightly around him in a hug.

"Daddy!" came a cry from the doorway, as Jayne rushed out to join her younger sister.

"She's coming home this afternoon, we just thought we'd tell you in person," Michael explained, relinquishing his hold on his daughters.

"Mister Gardiner, I doubt you'd remember me, my name is –" began Malcolm, stepping forwards.

"Malcolm du Croix," interrupted Michael. "Yes, I remember you, it's good to see you again," he said, shaking Malcolm's hand. "According to my sources, you're rather close with my May," he added.

"Umm – I wanted to meet you again before she moved in, I really did, but you were in Germany," Malcolm said awkwardly.

"That's quite alright, May is twenty-two, and she's a very sensible girl," Michael replied, as Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's happened to Lye?" Ella questioned immediately.

"I think we had better have this conversation inside, Ella, you need you clean yourself up," Eddie said.

"Here, I'll help," May said, doctor-mode kicking in. "You're going to need to put anaesthetic on your hands, and something to protect the wound from infection," she continued, taking Ella's hands in hers.

"Fine then, Doctor Gardiner," she replied, rolling her eyes as May led her into the house, and upstairs to the bathroom.

"What the hell happened down there?" May asked, once she had shut the bathroom door.

"Nothing. Your boyfriend and I had a little disagreement," Ella replied, going to the sink and turning the water on.

"Little? That was nowhere _near_ 'little'," she snapped, looking through the medicine cabinet for something to put on her hands. "What was it all about? Mum told me that you used to live with someone called Jacques, and that you broke up. What the hell happened?" she questioned, as Ella sighed.

"I was in love with him," Ella stated. "We lived together, we spent a lot of time together, I joined Kipling and things started to fall apart," she explained, washing the dirt from her bloodstained hands. "A year after Kipling had been a band Jacques and I were separated by Malcolm, he didn't let me see him anymore, and I haven't talked to Jacques since," she finished.

"And… what Malcolm said about – about Mum hitting you?" May asked, trying to keep her voice level.

"She only did it when no one was around and Uncle Michael was in Germany," Ella replied.

"But – but she never hit me, or Jayne, or Lye!" May cried, as Ella nodded.

"Your mother hated me. She still does," Ella informed her pointedly. "That's why I hate coming here, that's why I ran away when I was sixteen," she explained, as May dabbed a stinging liquid on her hands.

"I had no idea," mumbled May softly. "I – I'm sorry, Ella," she said earnestly.

"So am I," she replied, waiting patiently as May wrapped some bandage around her palms. She had dug her nails in very deep, and twisted some of the flesh.

They headed downstairs, where everyone, including Mrs Gardiner, was assembled in the living room.

"Girls, take a seat," Michael said, as May sat down next to Malcolm, and Ella, ignoring the free space on Malcolm's other side, sat on the floor. "Now I don't know what's going on, Ella, Malcolm, but you're acting like children," he said sternly. "This is hardly the time for you to be screaming your lungs off and arguing in front of the neighbours, I thought that you two would both be a little more mature," he continued. Malcolm looked guilty, but Ella tossed her head back and glared outside into the yard.

"Michael, tell me what's happening to Lye!" begged Fran, interrupting with a pleading note.

"Yes, Lye," he said, taking a deep breath. "She was found at the airport, she and Mister Wickham had tickets to California, but the security guards stopped them when they found out their identity," he began. "They were both arrested, apparently Lye was in quite a state, she confessed to everything before they even had handcuffs on, and they were taken into custody," he continued, as Fran gave a loud wail.

"So what do we do now?" Jayne asked anxiously.

"Nothing," Eddie replied, strolling away from the mantel to stand by his brother-in-law. "She was acquitted, bailed with a penalty fine, stating that she was a victim, and that Gee forced her into her actions," he said calmly.

"That doesn't make sense," Ella said instantly. "For her to be acquitted she would have needed a defence lawyer, and a _very_ good one to pull off a stunt like that," she continued. "And then the bail, the fee needed would be astronomical, and none of it would be returned, you know," she continued, with confusion. "Not to mention the fines! It doesn't matter if they let her off, she would have been fined heavily, this – none of it makes sense, where would she get the money needed to get away with this?" she questioned. "Sorry Uncle Mike, Uncle Ed, but you both have lives, you wouldn't have the kind of money on hand that's needed in a case like this," she said pointedly. Michael sighed.

"Ella, please, no more questions," he said softly, running a hand through his hair.

"What happened to this Wickham guy?" Malcolm asked.

"He's serving fifteen years, it seems that in addition to his recent charges he had a few outstanding warrants," Eddie informed him. Fran continued to wail horribly.

"Why are you crying, Mama? He's in jail! Lye is free! It's all over now!" May said, turning to her mother.

"It doesn't matter, May," Ella said softly, calmly.

"The entire world thinks that Lye is nothing but a junkie hooker," Jayne practically wept.

"And as a result, Jayne, Kipling, I don't know if we can pull through this one," Edvard said sadly. "May, you don't understand the way that it works," he continued. "Ella and Jayne are very much in the spotlight, and so are you, now that you've joined Kipling," he explained, as May nodded quietly, trying to understand the situation. "Jayne is going to find it hard to get work, no one will want a model who's own sister starred in a pornographic movie to represent their company, and the same thing applies to Kipling, your reputations are ruined," he said calmly.

"Who gives a damn? It's not the eighteenth century, this will all blow over," snapped Ella, running a hand through her hair, as her Uncles sighed, and Aunt cried in the background.

"You know full well what this means, Ella," Michael said quietly. "You're going to have to talk to your Press Agent to find out what to do next, so will you, Jayne," he added, turning to his daughter.

"I think that the best thing would be for us to stay out of the spotlight for a little while," May offered, as Malcolm smiled softly to her.

"That's why I'm going to France," Ella announced suddenly. Everyone turned to her, looks of shock on their faces.

"What?" Malcolm questioned. "I mean – it's understandable, I suppose, but… but –"

"Malcolm, I don't want another argument with you – you can't control me anymore," she snapped, rising to her feet.

"Err – Ella, I would suggest that maybe you stay here tonight," Michael said, noticing that his niece was making a move.

"Whatever," she replied, through gritted teeth. "Fine – I'll stay," she snapped.

"I appreciate it, Ella," Edvard said quietly. She glanced over at him and headed upstairs silently. She needed to think.

"_This is…different," she whispered, looking up into his silver eyes. He was still leaning over her, their kiss had ended but she still felt the warm, tingly feeling in the bottom of her stomach. _

"_Don't you like change?" he asked her, frowning slightly. _

"_Yes, I… I guess," she replied. "What's going on, Darcy?" she asked quietly, as he smoothed back a lock of hair._

"_I still want to be with you," he told her in complete earnest. She turned her head away, not seeing his hurt expression._

"_It's not that I don't want to be with you, it's…"_

"_Him," he stated pointedly. "I told you, I don't share," he continued, with a bit of an edge._

"_Let me think," she whispered softly, once more meeting his eyes. He was undone. He leant in to kiss her again, and was received warmly. He was in heaven. _

Ella turned the tap, steam filling the bathroom as the water washed in hot jets over her body. She had to think. She had to clear her mind; she had to just… _think_.

"_Can I come see you tomorrow?" he asked her, as they headed back to the manor, lagging behind the children and their parents in the warm summer evening._

"_What did you have in mind?" Ella asked, as he shrugged._

"_Lunch, I think," he replied. "There's a café in Lampton that makes the most amazing coffee in the world, I want to start you on an addiction," he said playfully. Ella smiled in response, blushing prettily._

"_Do they serve tea?" she asked teasingly, as he rolled his eyes._

"I'm_ the British one, _you're_ the European! _You're_ supposed to love coffee and I'm supposed to love tea!" he objected, as she laughed._

"_We don't have to be that boring," she replied, as he smiled._

"_I suppose not," he replied, his eyes still glued to her form. "You're beautiful," he informed her, as her cheeks flushed red._

"_I – I'm not, really," she muttered. He took her hand in his, and squeezed it tightly._

"_You're right," he replied, before Ella gave a slightly affronted laugh. "There are no words to describe how…well, how beautiful you are," he continued._

"_Smooth talker," she teased, as he chuckled._

"_I try," he replied, with a grin._

She almost banged her head against the tiled wall of the shower unit. The water stung painfully over her hands, she had taken off the bandages before she got into the shower and was regretting it. She inspected her palms, the skin was broken and blood had dried over the punctures, covering the wounds in her body's own defence. It was alright, playing guitar or the piano might be a little bit tricky, but she would push through the pain. She didn't know if she would be bale to do so with Lye, but she had to try.

She turned off the shower and stepped out of the unit, wrapping a towel around her damp body. Lye would probably be downstairs, she thought, but she knew she couldn't handle her cousin, it was all too much. She closed her eyes and simply breathed, feeling the water drip down her body.

About half an hour later, she was almost dry, and she had only been sitting down, breathing. She finished the job by just rubbing the rest of her body with the towel and slipping into an old pair of clothes she had left at the Gardiner estate years ago. The jeans were a little tighter, but she managed to fit into them, and her old Bob Dylan shirt fit perfectly. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and headed downstairs, slowly, trying to listen.

"And then I said 'how dare you!', and he called me 'ma'am' and I was going to get down his badge number and complain about him, but then this _other_ guy turned up, and he was really hot, but I can't tell you his name, and then the other guy – oh, hi Ella," was her greeting when she stepped into the kitchen. Lye was standing by the bench, looking as smug and primped as ever, her mother hovering over her anxiously, sisters looking disapproving and yet relieved. Michael didn't say anything at all.

"Lye," Ella acknowledged stiffly.

"Jeez, not you too! Everyone is being a real bitch today, you know?" she commented, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Well I wonder why," Ella replied sarcastically. As she entered the kitchen she saw Malcolm making tea for everyone, but she ignored him. She had been too self-indulgent by screaming at him earlier, she had no wishes to restart another performance.

"You'd think that I robbed a bank or something," Lye said, inspecting her nails.

"I'd rather it if you had," muttered Michael under his breath.

"What did you say, Daddy?" Lye asked, looking up from her hands for a moment.

"I said I'm going to unpack some of my things," he lied, sighing as he rubbed his forehead. "Ella, come help me," he added, as his niece's shoulders fell.

"Fine," she muttered. She had wanted to leave the house, but she could stay for another half-hour, if she didn't have to be around Lye during that time. She followed her uncle up the stairs, and instead of going to his room to unpack, he led her to his study, closing the door behind them.

"Sit down Ella, we need to talk," he said calmly, taking a seat on his chair behind the desk. Ella got the feeling that she was in the principal's office, awaiting a lecture on proper behaviour.

"I didn't say anything to Lye," she began defensively.

"I was more concerned about what I saw earlier this afternoon," he replied, his clear blue eyes locking onto hers, utter seriousness in his voice.

"I argued with Malcolm, so what," Ella snapped in response. "It's between him and I," she added pointedly.

"It's between you and rest of the world, you mean," he replied factually.

"What, did you take a course in counselling and assume that you could use your tricks on me?" Ella asked. "Don't inflate my ego like that – you're telling me what you assume any self-indulging 'oh woe is me' type would want to hear," she continued snappishly, as her uncle sighed.

"Why are you arguing with Malcolm?" he asked her calmly.

"He and I have our differences," she replied stiffly.

"And they are?"

"None of your business, Uncle," she answered.

"You're probably the most stubborn girl I've ever met, Ella Bennette," he informed her, but she only rolled her eyes.

"Can I go? I promise I'll be good," she said sarcastically.

"Where are you going?" he asked her, folding his hands on the surface of the desk.

"Marseille," she replied pointedly. "I don't know if you remember, but I _did_ grow up there, you know," she added.

"Are you sure you're not going to Paris?" he asked her.

"I may stop off in Paris, fashion capital of the world, forget what people say about Milan," she said lightly.

"I know you two were arguing about Jacques, Ella," Michael said, getting straight down to the point. "Do you still love him?" he asked her, staring straight into her eyes.

"_Just try, you'll love it!" laughed Darcy, as he tried to push the cup of coffee to Ella's mouth._

"_I will not!" she cried with the same silly smile on her face that Darcy was sporting. "It smells horrible!" she laughed, pushing him away._

"_Come on, it's the best coffee in all of Derby," he said, trying convince her._

"_Not a chance," she countered, trying to keep her face straight, but in seconds she was laughing._

"_You're crazy," he laughed, starting to join her._

"_Completely," she replied smilingly. He leaned forwards and kissed her smiling lips, and she could taste the best coffee in all of Derby on them._

"None of your business," she managed to get out, pushing the memory from her mind. She loved _Jacques_, right? Why was she thinking of _Darcy_ then?

"Would you throw away your friends and family to be with him?" Michael asked, as she nodded firmly.

"I just want it to be like it was before, just me and him," she stated, her voice not wavering, her jaw set.

"Do I really have to remind you that he almost killed you?" he asked.

"He made a mistake – he was getting help but _you_ people took me away – he was sorry for what he did, and he never got to show me how he had changed," she replied coolly. "Is this why you brought me up here? To lecture me?" she asked, as he sighed.

"No," he answered earnestly.

"I'm not giving up on my family and friends, or Kipling either," she said. "I'm going to Marseille for the summer, and then we'll start to record in Autumn," she added.

"You have to forget him," her Uncle told her quietly.

"I can't," she replied simply.

"And what about Darcy? This wouldn't happen to be _the_ Darcy, would it?" he questioned, as she nodded. "From what Malcolm said, I take it that you and he were quite close," he continued, as she nodded again, then bowed her head. She was silent for a moment, and Michael had no idea what was happening, until he saw her shoulders shake and heard her weep.

"I've made a mistake, Uncle," she cried softly. "I made a stupid, _stupid_ mistake – I've been so _stupid_!" she wept. "I – I didn't tell him, but I – I _felt_ it, and now it's too late, he doesn't want anything to do with me – I've been so blind!" she cried.

Michael sighed.

"It looks like you have to make a few decisions," he said softly.

"You have to trust me," Ella replied, wiping away her tears. "I – I can't be here anymore, I need a break, a break from everyone, including Jacques," she continued. "Please, _please_, just let me go!" she practically begged.

"Ella, I tried my hardest to make you stay when you were sixteen, and I failed," he began, his voice weary as he pushed some of his greying hair from his forehead. "I can't make you stay, but I don't want to lose you, none of us do," he continued. "Not Malcolm, not May or Jayne, not your Uncle and certainly not your Father, although I can't make you do something that you don't want to do," he finished.

"But…" trailed off Ella, knowing that there would be something there.

"But I'm asking you."

With that, he stood up, and left the room.

**A/N: Review! Review! Review! Tell me what you thought! I tried to make what Lye did parallel with what 18****th**** century Lydia did, but I don't know if I really got there… And I threw Gee in prison, I don't like the character of Wickham, not just because he's a dirty snake, but because I think the villain thing has been done too many times in the past, my characters are more 'oh the evil in my soul' than anything else. Lol. I'm being very self-indulgent with this story, am I not? I was wondering if anyone had any ideas on what I could have in the summary, maybe to encourage a few more people to read the story, I don't know, what do you think?**


	31. It's time to go home

A/N: Okay, I PROMSE that we will see Jacques soon :D This is a short chapter, but once again, necessary

**A/N: Okay, I PROMSE that we will see Jacques soon :D This is a short chapter, but once again, necessary. We ARE going to see Darcy in a little bit, AND Charlie too, and Caroline. So just stay tuned, keep reviewing :D**

"Pass the sauce, Ella!" cried Lye, with a tone that suggested she had been repeating that phrase over and over again.

"Oh, sure," Ella muttered, waking up from her musings, and passing the gravy boat filled with a chunky tomato pasta sauce.

"Thanks! Jeez, what's with you?" she questioned, pouring liberal amounts over her spinach and ricotta ravioli. "You've been weird all afternoon, ever since I got back," she commented.

"Well, maybe I'm thinking, Lye, I can understand if it's difficult for you to comprehend," snapped Ella in response.

"Jeez, what a warm welcome back you're giving me!" Lye cried haughtily. Her family members around the table all scowled at her, but she didn't notice, or care.

"You hardly deserve a warm welcome, Lye," Ella commented, as her cousin rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, you're just jealous 'cos Gee Wickham thinks that _I'm_ hotter than you," she countered. Ella quietly put her fork down on her plate.

"Yeah, well he didn't see _me_ naked, so he wouldn't know," she snapped.

"Ella!" cried Fran, in shock. "How could you say that?" she questioned.

"Very easily," Ella replied, picking her fork back up, and taking a bite of her dinner. "I'm sorry if I'm supposed to be all loving and forget what she did, but that's just not the way that I work!" she continued, when her Aunt sharpened her glare.

"'What I did'?" questioned Lye. "So what, I had a little fun!" she objected.

"A little bit of illegal fun, Lye," Ella snapped.

"Jealous much?" Lye responded, her face jeering.

"Lye, shutup," her father snapped, as Lye's mouth dropped.

"_Daddy_!" she cried.

"Ella is right, your behaviour is disgusting," he snapped. "You know what, I'm not going to let you turn out like this," he continued, putting down his cutlery. "You're going to apply to college. I'm going to pick what courses you do, and you _will_ graduate. Then you're going to get a job, a _real_ job, and the moment you do, you're going to start saving to buy a house," he began. "Then you're going to move, but it has to be within a safe distance from here. You won't drink, smoke, take any drugs, go to parties that I don't approve of, and you can't date anyone until you're in college," he continued. "You're _not_ going to be a model, you're _not_ going to talk to magazines about your sisters and your cousin, and you're _not_ going to visit Gee in jail," he finished. "Am I clear?" he asked her finally.

"_Daddy_! You can't do that! I don't _want_ to go to college, and I don't _want_ to get a job!" she cried in response. "You can't stop me from seeing Gee; he told me that he loves me! And you can't stop me from dating and going out! I'm not a baby!" she snapped.

"Well you're acting like a spoilt little brat!" said Michael commandingly. "You've been on a long leash your entire life, and now you're going to have to grow up and act responsibly! Do you have _any_ idea what you're done to your sisters and Ella? You could have ruined their careers! Not you mention your Uncle, what about his business? Who would want him to design a home for them if they think that his niece is Britain's newest Caroline Hurst?" he questioned, as Ella stifled laughter. Caroline didn't have a very good reputation.

"S'not my fault," Lye said, pouting and crossing her arms. "I'm allowed to have fun! Jayne is a model and May is a cellist or whatever – Ella has her own band! Why can't I be famous?" she asked.

"You could be famous for a million different reasons, Lye Shayne Gardiner, but I will _not_ accept _promiscuity_ as one of them!" he cried commandingly, slamming his fist against the table top. Everyone around him was silent. Lye burst into tears and ran from the dining room to the stairs, screaming about how unfair and cruel the world was.

"Umm, maybe we should go," muttered Malcolm awkwardly, breaking the silence.

"I have to get back to Maddie," Eddie announced.

"I have to get home, Michelangelo will be missing me," Ella added, standing up. Jayne sent her a scowl, she had barely touched a thing on her plate. "Bye all," she said, waving to her cousin, Aunt and Uncle as she left the room, Malcolm, May and Eddie following her.

"I'll give you a ride home, Ella," Eddie said, as Ella nodded.

"I'll see you soon May," Ella promised. She hugged her tightly, before she grabbed her coat, and followed Eddie out to his car.

Ella tiredly collapsed into bed almost as soon as she had gotten home, feeding Michelangelo had been her only action before she headed upstairs.

She was very, very confused. There were so many questioned unanswered about Lye, who had paid for her lawyer, her bail, her fines? Neither Eddie nor Michael had the amount of money needed on hand, and who had found Lye and Gee in the first place? There was so much censorship of the truth that it made her brain hurt, she felt like she was stuck in an Agetha Christie novel, the only thing missing was a murder to make everything complete. She shuddered at the thought.

Thinking about Lye made her sick. Where had that girl gone so wrong? She had been spoilt to death by her mother, but wasn't there some good in everyone? How could she have absolutely no regret for any of her actions, as if they were all good deeds or completely innocent ways to pass the time? What Michael had said was true – they were in for a bad few months, due to Lye's behaviour. Maybe it was best that they put off recording the next album until the scandal and intrigue died away, and she _did_ miss her father, and Marseille. She just wished that she could have spent some more time at Pemberley. It was such a beautiful, calming place…

She shook her head into her pillow. Thinking about Pemberley made her feel even worse. She was so sad, and so confused! On one hand, Darcy had separated Jayne and Charlie for no good reason, but on the other hand, he was kind and sweet, in a strange way.

She continued to push these thoughts from her mind. None of it mattered, they would never see each other again. The look on Darcy's face when she told him what had happened revealed all. He was looking at her and seeing only her middle-class background and her stupid, _stupid_ cousin.

She opened her eyes, and looked out of the bedroom window. The stars were twinkling brightly, almost mocking her. She was sick of England. It was time to go home.

**A/N: I could have done so much more with Gee Wickham, but he bores me. Please review! I'm really glad that people are listening to the music in this story, it really helps the atmosphere and themes come out. Please review, once again!**


	32. Juniper

A/N: And finally, we get back to Darcy, and a nice, normal sized chapter

**A/N: And finally, we get back to Darcy, and a nice, normal sized chapter. Don't worry about what Ella says, we all know how the story ends :D Updating everyday is now becoming a luxury that I'm not sure I can keep up, I've got more exams coming up, and I'm also making a Sailor Moon costume for Halloween so a lot of my time is being taken up, but I promise I'll try :D**

"Do you think she hates me?" came a soft whisper in the middle of the night, as May opened her eyes. She was a very light sleeper, and had heard Malcolm mutter something, but it took her tired brain a moment to comprehend the actual words.

"No," she replied sleepily. "She's just… angry," she said, her reply interrupted by a yawn. It wasn't the first night that Malcolm had sat awake, staring at the roof. "I don't know why she's angry, but that's all it is," she answered.

"She has every right to be angry, but I did what I did to help her," he stated firmly, as if he was convincing himself. "I watched her self-destruct, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, I couldn't go through it ever again," he told her, rolling over and pulling May close to his body as a source of comfort.

"No offence, but did you consider how she felt?" May asked through yawns.

"I did it for _her_, of course I did," he answered.

"From what I can tell, you separated her from… Jacques, wasn't it?" she asked, feeling him nod. "You separated her from him because she was getting hurt or something, and it was destroying her, right?" she asked, as he nodded again. "And you didn't let them see each other after that, yes?" she continued, as he gave another nod. "And you did this so that she wouldn't have to feel hurt?" she asked. Another nod symbolised a positive reply. "Can I ask you something?" she said softly.

"Anything," he replied quietly.

"Just something for you to think about, because I'm going to fall asleep any second now. But do you think that it hurt more when she was _with_ Jacques, or when she was taken _away_ from Jacques?" she asked.

"I – I…"

"Because the logic seems to me that if she's going to be hurt no matter what she does, she should at least go with the one that causes her less pain," she mused softly, before yawning. "N – night, Malcolm…" she trailed off, her eyes fluttering to a close as she fell back into slumber, Malcolm still staring at the roof until morning's light filled the room.

Wilhelm sighed as he sunk into the comfortable recliner on his private jet, closing his eyes and ignoring the loud sounds of the engine as they flew through the sky. He didn't like flying. He didn't like the noise, the turbulence, the food, all he wanted to do was go back on the ground and bury himself in his study.

After he had cleared up the whole business with Wickham and Lye Gardiner he felt in need of a long break. He had headed back to Pemberley after the final hearing, but even though it had been a full month, Pemberley still reminded him of Ella. It drove him mad. Everything that he saw had a little bit of her lingering to it, the drapes that she had let her hand hover over when she discussed the colour scheme with Gina, the carpets that she had walked over and the banister that she had held whilst walking up the stairs, it was all a painful, stinging memory to him, and it was keeping him up at night.

So, he had done it. Got on his jet, which was pointed in the direction of the Riviera, where he used to spend half of his summers when he was a trouble-free youth, and told the pilot to fly.

He enjoyed the solitude that the flight was allowing him, he enjoyed the freedom of knowing that there were no calls for him to return to London, and nothing that would require his physical presence. He was going to France, and he was going to relax.

The plane touched down in good time, Mortimer, one fifth of his staff in his estate on the Riviera greeting him at the hanger with a Rolls Royce that hadn't been driven for a fair few years, since his last trip to France. The drive was comfortable, Mortimer filling him in on what had happened in the past three years, namely the society. He handed him a pile of letters, all of which were invites to parties that had been sent when it was revealed that he planned on staying in the Riviera for the rest of the summer. He flipped through them all, most of them he had no interest in, but there were a few hosted by old friends, or that promised an interesting conversation or two that he wished to attend.

"I'll be upstairs," Wilhelm said when they arrived at the stunning villa, it was just as he remembered it, the sun shining through the trees and reflected over the pool, moss had grown in several places on the ancient stone but it only added to the beauty of the estate.

"_Tres bien, monsieur_," Mortimer replied, fetching Pierre, the grounds boy to get his bags from the back of the car.

Once Pierre had left, Wilhelm opened up his suitcases and valises. He took out all of his clothes and put them in the wardrobe, before disrobing himself and falling into the soft, comfortable bed, the smell of clean linen and expensive silk comforting him.

He woke up in the late afternoon, and decided to dine out. He wasn't comfortable with society at that point, but France was very different to England, particularly at that exact point in time, as the French bohemians were coming back and many people dined out, alone, every night. He took with him a French novel that had been in his room and changed into some light, comfortable evening clothes, taking the Rolls out to dine at the Ritz.

Over the next few weeks, he settled into a comfortable living, he would go to a party or have dinner with friends every other night, or simply eat alone at either a nice restaurant or in the villa. He had good opportunities to work on his French, the locals were friendly, the food and wine fantastic, but always, in the back of his mind, lingering and taunting him was Ella.

"_On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate me as a ninja?" she asked suddenly as they strolled down the busy Lampton street._

"_I'm sorry, a 'ninja'?" he asked, laughingly, pulling her to the side just in time for her to dodge a speeding courier on his motorbike._

"_Yes, one being the lowest, ten being the highest," she informed him, as they continued to walk._

"_Err…seven?" he suggested, as she rolled her eyes._

"_No, a _real_ number," she said exasperatingly._

"_What do you mean? Seven is a real number," he replied frowningly._

"_Not really, people always say seven when they can't think of anything else, it's a safe guess," she explained._

"_I wasn't aware of that… err, then an eight, I suppose," he corrected himself, as she smiled, satisfied. "How would you rate me?" he questioned curiously, as she looked thoughtful, before giving a cheeky smile._

"_Seven."_

He laughed at the memory as he shaved in front of the bathroom mirror. She was so playful and childish, but he adored it. They had spent five blissful days in each other's company, and it almost killed him that the chances of them ever meeting again were so very slim. He sighed as he washed the last of the shaving cream from his face. It wouldn't do for him to linger in the past.

He then began to prepare for the evening. He was going to a party being held by his old Oxford friend James Gatz and his wife Daisy, and it promised to be an impressive evening. James had a tendency to host very large parties very often, and he hardly ever knew half of the guests that turned up. But regardless, James and Daisy were always good company.

He changed into a black evening suit and a white shirt, leaving his usual cravats in favour of a white silk scarf around the back of his neck, its two ends draping over the front of either shoulder. He ran a comb through his hair once or twice, it was getting longer, and he needed to cut it. Regardless, he hadn't the time to go to a hairdresser. He headed downstairs, where Mortimer was already waiting with the car.

"James Gatz, s'il vous plait," he said, sliding into the backseat.

"_Oui, monsieur_," Mortimer replied, starting the engine, and heading down the drive.

James Gatz had a very fine mansion. It was done in a sort of colonial style, and was almost constantly decorated to perfection, lights strung out on the balconies and verandas, where people stood with their drinks, people coming and going, chatting away. The ballroom was a thing of beauty, it was nothing compared to the Pemberley ballroom but it had gorgeous charm to it, and it was filled with dancing couples as an entire orchestra played, music reverberating off ever pristine white surface. Gatz held some of the best parties of the season, and despite the fact that Darcy personally abhorred parties, he always enjoyed Gatz's. No matter how many people were in attendance, the atmosphere was always very intimate and it somehow felt like a small gathering, which was essential for any successful party.

"Wilhelm, my boy!" James greeted cheerfully, slapping his old friend on the back when he entered the busy ballroom. "Splendid that you could come, I was worried that you might blow me off," he continued, with a large grin.

"How very American of you," countered Darcy as a waiter handed him a glass of champagne. "I've been to three of your parties already since I was here, why would I disregard this one?" he questioned, as James shrugged, and laughed.

"Ah well, matter's not," he replied, leading him through to find Daisy, his wife.

"Oh, hello there Wilhelm, it's good to see you!" she greeted, kissing his cheek briefly.

"Good to see you too, Mrs Gatz," he replied, as she rolled her eyes.

"It's _Daisy_, Wilhelm," she corrected him sternly. "Having fun yet?" she asked curiously.

"I just got here, but so far I'm not disappointed," he answered. "You look wonderful, Daisy," he complimented, as she smiled. She was wearing a nice white dress, her hair and makeup done tastefully, and she did look very pretty. She was an attractive woman, particularly to James.

"Thanks for the flattery," she countered, smiling in a very pleasant way, her perfect white teeth lighting up her face. "You should go and find a few people, I think I recognise a total of forty people tonight, and there must be at least a hundred," she commented, looking around.

"Will do," Wilhelm answered, kissing her cheek once more, before he headed across the room, where he would be safest. The music picked up and more people started dancing, so he hovered around the edges, watching, sipping his champagne, occasionally talking to people who noticed him, but mostly just quietly absorbing the lights and sounds.

"Darcy! There you are," cried James a little later, catching up with his friend. "I'd like you to meet someone, have you heard of Jacques Petards? He's a _fantastic_ artist, I bought nineteen of his paintings last week, and I invited him here to meet some people," he said, pulling a man forwards.

He was a bit taller than average height, but still shorter than Wilhelm. He was an attractive young man, his age probably being around thirty, possibly a little less, and somehow he reminded Wilhelm of James Blunt, with his lengthy dark hair, stubble that was dangerously close to becoming a beard and moustache and clear, milky blue eyes, a piercing on his eyebrow. He was dressed in a nice black suit with a silk white shirt and a loose blue tie.

"Pleased to meet you, Wilhelm Darcy, right?" he said, introducing himself. He had a Parisian accent, and very good English.

"One or the other is fine," he answered, shaking his hand firmly. He could tell from the tone of this man's voice that he didn't wish to flatter him and make connections, but only wished for decent conversation.

"I'll stick to your stage name then," he decided. "I've heard a lot of your music, it's very good," he complimented.

"Thank you, Jacques, is it?" he asked, as the man nodded. "I take it you did all the new artworks Gatz has hanging in the foyer then?" he questioned.

"I did," he replied.

"They're quite good," Wilhelm informed him. "From your accent I would say you're Paris-born, are you living in the Riviera?" he asked curiously, taking another sip of his champagne.

"You have very good ears," laughed Jacques. "Yes, I am Parisian, but I'm renting out a villa a few minutes away, my gallery is still in Paris, however," he informed him. "And yourself?" he asked politely.

"English born, Scottish educated, I'm here for a bit of a break," Darcy answered. "Your style of art is very interesting, I recognise it from somewhere, I think," he continued. "You wouldn't happen to have any work displayed in the British Modern Art Gallery, would you?" he asked curiously, as a small smile flickered onto Jacques' face.

"I do, in fact," he replied. "I have about four pieces in there, most of my work is in Private collections, but I've got a hundred pieces that are on a tour of America at the moment, and a private gallery in Paris," he explained.

"Quite impressive," Wilhelm commented. "I may have a look when I'm in Paris next, your work is quite impressive," he added.

"Then I hope to see you there," he replied.

"Jacques is going to paint me a few more pictures, Wilhelm, I'm getting him to do a portrait of Daisy this weekend, in fact," Gatz mentioned.

"Yes, as you're constantly reminding me," Jacques added, with a small flicker of a smile. "James, have you seen Elle?" he asked, glancing around the room briefly. "She's a musician as well, I'm sure she'd love to meet you," he added for Wilhelm's benefit.

"Your wife?" Wilhelm questioned.

"Hopefully by this time next year, she will," Jacques answered. He gestured for this 'Elle' to approach, but Wilhelm couldn't see her from his position. "Ella, darling, I'd like you to meet Wilhelm Darcy," Jacques said, taking the woman by the hand, and pulling her forwards.

Wilhelm's jaw could have very easily dropped to the ground. He couldn't believe it, it was just impossible, it was a million times more unlikely that seeing her at Pemberley, and even _that_ was an incredible long shot.

She looked different to _his_ Ella. She was still stunningly gorgeous, with her ivory skin, silky brown curls and twinkling blue-grey eyes, but she looked far more… _French_. She was wearing a very nice black silk sheath dress by one of Paris' finest designers, it showed off her curves beautifully and played extreme compliment to her legs, and she wore it with casual, sensual confidence. She was wearing black heels and her hair was down, her makeup light, except for dark mascara and very red lips. She had always been beautiful when in England, but what she had lacked to be seen as a woman, instead of a girl, was _chic_, something that very few woman in England had, but was now dripping from every part of her body. Jacques (the name was now like filth to him) wrapped an arm around her waist, ignoring the uncomfortable look on Ella's face, and kissed her on the cheek with more-than-friendly familiarity.

"I –" Ella was about to begin, her eyes widening with shock when she saw who was before her.

"Pleased to meet you, Ella," he greeted, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles lightly. "You look quite familiar, you wouldn't happen to go by the alias of Canterbury Zimmerman, would you?" he asked her, as she looked at him in confusion.

"I… yes, I do," she answered, trying to hide her confusion. "That's my stage name – I'm in a band called 'Kipling'," she muttered.

"Ah yes, I like your music," he replied. "Particularly one song, although I can't remember its name, it might be 'My Sweetest Downfall', or it could even be –"

"Samson," she interrupted. "It's called Samson," she repeated.

"Yes, a very good song," he said, only the slightest hint of coolness to his voice.

"'Samson'?" Jacques questioned. "I'm not sure if I know that one," he said thoughtfully.

"It's a B-Side, Jacques," she replied. "Umm, I like your music too," she added, playing the game. "I'm very fond of the song 'Never and Always on my Mind'," she continued meaningfully.

"Yes, well some people like that track, other's disregard it – sometimes these songs are of little to no importance in the bigger picture," he replied, the coolness in his voice rising. He was angry with her, if he was honest to himself. He was angry that she was there, with this 'Jacques', and that they acted like they were so close. It wasn't _right_!

"I'm sure that you two could discuss a million and one things about music – but right now I just want to borrow Jacques for a while, do you mind?" Gatz interrupted.

"Not at all, I'm sure Ella and I can struggle through a bit of light conversation for a bit," Wilhelm replied politely. Jacques shook Wilhelm's hand once again, and then allowed himself to be led off by Gatz to meet a 'very important arts dealer' from Genoa.

Silence ensured when the two had left.

"You look good," Wilhelm said finally.

"Why didn't you tell Jacques that we know each other?" she asked him, her tone hinted with both sharpness and desperation to know the truth.

"I didn't think that your husband-to-be would like to know about your meaningless time spent with me," he snapped. "I was put on the spot and reacted accordingly," he continued with bitterness.

"I would have told him," Ella said firmly.

"Who is he?" Wilhelm asked. "Is this the one that had first dibs?" he asked cuttingly.

"I'm not something you can call _dibs_ on Darcy – I'm a person," she replied.

"Is he the one that you wrote all of those songs about? 'Samson', 'Bleeding Love', 'Nineteen', 'Near to you'?" he asked her, as she nodded.

"His middle name is Samson," she answered, with guilt.

"And then I suppose this is the man that your little band-mate Morgan or whatever his name was told me about," he continued. "He said that you've had your heart broken before, and I assume that _this_ guy is the one who did it," he snapped.

"Morgan doesn't know anything about it," she replied. "But… to a degree, yes, he is," she admitted, as Wilhelm almost burst into bitter laughter.

"I _knew_ that you were in love with someone else," he said triumphantly, trying to hide the hurt from his voice. "I wish you two the best of wishes," he finished coldly, turning away.

"Wait – Wilhelm!" she called, as he stopped, and slowly turned around.

"You've never called me Wilhelm before," he said, facing her. He couldn't hide the pain, longing and hurt from his eyes; it was all laid out before Ella. It was a very, very frightening experience to see someone who is normally such a pillar of strength laid bare.

"Well I'm calling you Wilhelm now," she said softly. He screwed his eyes closed, and brought a hand to his face, rubbing his temples, trying to relieve some of the madness in his head. In a moment he opened them again, and took away his hand.

He grabbed Ella's wrist and pulled her towards him, and out of the ballroom. She resisted, but he still pulled when they got into the hall, and he started looking around. He spotted the library door and wrenched it open, dragging Ella inside.

"What are you –" she began, before she was cut off by Darcy slamming her back against the door, and covering her mouth with his lips, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he pulled her as close to him as possible. They had shared a scarce few kisses in the past, one forced one before he had proposed, and two or three at Pemberley, but they were all gentle, testing-the-waters kisses, _nothing_ like the current experience. It was passionate and rough and fierce, her mouth was open to him within seconds and all thought between both of them was falling away. Her lips were swollen and bruised, as were his, but neither felt any inclination to stop. Her hands took their place around his neck as his began exploring new found territory, tasting the champagne on her tongue and doing very well to ignore the glaring fact dancing before his eyes, like coloured stars when one pressed their hands over their eyes very hard.

Jacques.

He pulled away after God knows how long, his breathing heavy and laboured, pressing his forehead against hers. It all felt so very, very right, but he couldn't ignore it. Jacques was _her_ partner. He rationed his breaths, trying to calm down his breathing as he gently nuzzled her face; his hands stroking her sides, his eyes still closed shut. He smelt the salty tears before he tasted them, kissing his way across her face. He knew she was crying, but if he kept his eyes closed very tight and his hands on her body he could almost pretend that nothing else existed but them, locked in embrace.

"This isn't what supposed to happen," Ella managed to get out, now crying openly. "I can't do this to Jacques," she wept.

"Shhh… I know," Wilhelm whispered, still not opening his eyes. She smelt like wild strawberries, lilies, and a hint of rose and evening primrose oil. Her skin was warm and smooth, and she felt very light and petit next to him, but almost like the missing piece of a jigsaw. Every curve and crevice moulded into each other, limbs that he had once felt were gawky and lanky when he was in his teen years were now in perfect proportion and position, the top of her head fit perfectly under his chin in her heels, but when she took them off she would still fit, her head against his chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"It's not meant to be like this," she cried softly, as he smoothed back a lock of her hair.

"Not yet," he replied quietly.

"You gave me no reasons to stay," she whispered. "All I've wanted for the past three years was him! You're making this so hard for me!" she said firmly, pulling away.

"It doesn't _have_ to be hard – tell me that you love me!" he demanded, placing his hands on her shoulders and pulling her towards him.

"Tell me that it would change anything if I did!" she cried suddenly. He didn't say anything for a while, simply looking at her incredulously.

"It would change _everything_."

"I don't want to lose him," she said softly, more tears spilling from her eyes. She had been crying so much lately.

"Once you asked me if I knew what it was like to have your entire life ripped apart, to be taken away from the one you love by another, to wake up every day knowing that you'll never see them again," he said, stopping her from pulling her away again. She wiped her eyes and listened in silence.

"You never answered," she replied, trying to regain her composure.

"I do," he said quietly, painfully. "I know how it feels, I know _exactly_ how it feels, I feel it _every fucking_ day!" he cried. "Y – you're doing that to me!" he continued, with desperation.

"I also said that I would never forgive you," she reminded him. "I'm sorry – I have to go," she said finally, making a move to leave.

"Wait – Ella, I take it back, I don't give a damn, I – I'll share if it means that I can have you, I _need_ you with me Ella," he said softly, pulling on her wrist, but she pulled away.

"I told you, Wilhelm, I'm not for sharing," she said quietly, stepping towards him, taking his hand in hers. One look and she undid him; he gulped as he stared into her big blue eyes, seeing everything that he had never seen before. She stood on the tips of her toes, raising her lips up to his ears, and whispering very quietly; "_Je peur non destine, pour vous etes ma destine, ma cherie._"

She delicately pressed the lightest of kisses against his lips.

"Au revoir, Monsieur Darcy," she finished softly. Painfully, and with feelings she was well aware that she should not have for him, she left the room, leaving him completely, and utterly alone.

**A/N: So… did you like Jacques? I'm not finished with him yet however :D I'm certainly steering off the original story line, but there have been certain scenes that I've been wanting to write for a great deal of time, and I'm finally getting them out. Please review! I know that you all wanted Ella to declare that she loves Darcy and that Jacques means nothing to her, but I don't want my story to be too generic. For all it's twists and turns it's still a simple love story, some excitement never hurt anyone :D**


	33. Almost Lover

A/N: Short, sweet, or rather… painful… The song used is 'Almost Lover' by A fine Frenzy, it's the same artist who did Ella's 'Near to You', I felt it was appropriate

**A/N: I was wondering when you guys would realise the blatant references to 'The Great Gatsby' :D I had so much fun writing the next chapter, and I'm very sorry for all of the angst, but it will all be worth it, I swear :D**

**So I know a lot of people didn't want Ella to go back to Jacques, and they wanted her to confess that she loves Darcy when he turned up, but I'm afraid that I never planned it like that. Yes, there's a lot of angst to it, but this all has a reason. Partly it's for the allowance of several different songs into the plot (the one used in this one is 'Almost Lover' by a Fine Frenzy, by the way, done by the same person that did Ella's song 'Near to You' a few chapters ago, please ignore that it's sung by a girl), and partly because I'm a believer that anything worth having is worth suffering for. For all the trails that Ella and Darcy face, it only makes the end result even better for the both of them. You have to realise that Ella has had a messed up existence, and isn't actually perfect, I probably wouldn't want to meet her, she's stubborn and prejudiced and doesn't want to move on from Jacques, even though he hurt her, but she's also like super glue – strong as all hell, but very brittle. Please just bare with me, I don't do drabble and fluff that well, but I can write angst. And a lot of it.**

Wilhelm left the party early, with no explanation for Gatz; nor his wife. He almost punched Jacques out, but he resisted. The last thing he needed was more conflict, and that was bound to cause it. He summoned Mortimer and went back to the villa in haste, trying to keep himself calm and collected. It wouldn't do to explode in front of his manservant.

Upon arriving at the villa, he locked himself in his room, and pulled out his bags. He hadn't felt that way since Ella told him months ago that she could never love him. How could he live without her? How had he pulled himself together after her rejection enough to live another day? He didn't think he could do it again; he wouldn't be able to do it twice. All he could see before him was her beautiful face, and Jacques' arm around her.

All he wanted was her. _Just_ her! And now, because he had taken so long to make any effort regarding Charlie and Jayne she was lost to him forever. How could she just rip apart his life so with only a few words? How could he live, knowing that she loved someone else? It was more painful than thinking that she hated him, this time he knew that there was a chance between them, but she wanted _him_! She wanted that Jacques – how could she? How could she love _him_, it wasn't right! All he could think about was _her_ with _him_, it was a horrible, taunting image, one that he wished to erase from his mind for all eternity, but it was burned in there, searing into his thoughts.

Her last words to him flashed before his eyes in teasing confusion. '_Je peur non destine, pour vous etes ma destine, ma cherie_'. The rough translation of those words were 'I fear no destiny, for you are my destiny, my darling', but it made little to no sense. For one thing, she was using the incorrect male and female articles, but she spoke French perfectly, so he had no idea why. And the sentence was all wrong! Why would she purposely use such loose, rough French, when it was her native tongue? And what was she talking about? Just another trick to drive him crazy?

He stopped packing for a moment, and ran a hand over his face, brushing away foreign tears that had unwillingly formed. He had handled her last rejection with his music. It was the only way that he had managed to get a grip on things, with his music! He had brought a guitar with him, but what he wanted was the piano in the library down the hall. He left his room and headed to the last heavily polished walnut door, pulling it open and heading to the piano. There was a piano in every house, estate and apartment that was in the Darcy name, he couldn't program without music, he _needed_ it. He closed the door. It would be a late night.

Early the next morning, with the sun rising over the ocean, light shining into the room, Wilhelm Darcy had finished. He had no way of recording his song, but it was etched on the walls of his mind, always there. It was _his_ response to her song, 'Near to You'. He wondered if they would forever go back and forth, writing responses to each other's music. He could only hope so, writing a response to her song 'Samson' had created 'Never & Always on my Mind', an exhilarating experience, to say the least. It saddened him to think that it could possibly be their only methods of communication.

He settled his hands on the piano, and began to play.

"_Your fingertips across my skin_

_The palm trees swaying in the wind, _

_Images…_

_You sang me Spanish lullabies, _

_The sweetest silence in your eyes,_

_Clever trick…_

_Well I never want to see you unhappy,_

_I thought you'd want the same for me,_

_Goodbye my almost lover,_

_Goodbye my hopeless dream_

_I'm trying not to think of you,_

_Can't you just let me be?_

_So long my luckless romance,_

_My back is turned on you_

_Should have known you'd bring me heartache,_

_Almost lovers always do_

_We walked along a crowded street_

_You took my hand and danced with me,_

_Images…_

_And when you left you kissed my lips_

_And told me you would never let forget these images,_

_No…_

_Goodbye my almost lover,_

_Goodbye my hopeless dream_

_I'm trying not to think of you,_

_Can't you just let me be?_

_So long my luckless romance,_

_My back is turned on you_

_Should have known you'd bring me heartache,_

_Almost lovers always do_

_I cannot go to the ocean, _

_I cannot drive the streets at night_

_I cannot wakeup in the morning without you on my mind_

_So you're gone and I'm haunted,_

_And I bet you are just fine_

_Did I make it that easy to walk right in and out of my life?_

_Goodbye my almost lover,_

_Goodbye my hopeless dream_

_I'm trying not to think of you,_

_Can't you just let me be?_

_So long my luckless romance,_

_My back is turned on you_

_Should have known you'd bring me heartache,_

_Almost lovers always do_"

The emotion built up to the bridge, when he cried out '_I cannot go to the ocean, I cannot drive the streets at night, I cannot wakeup in the morning without you on my mind. So you're gone and I'm haunted, and I bet you are just fine… Did I make it that easy to walk right in and out of my mind?_', and then settled back into the chorus. It was a little depressing for his normal taste, but he felt like he had just had his life ripped into tiny little pieces, and music was his only solace.

He slammed his hands on the piano keys angrily, and felt the last little barrier he had built fall away, tears falling freely, no more restraints. He hated it so much. He hated the feelings so much. The whole business had gone on long enough, and it was time to end it.

It took him several hours to collect himself, but he eventually stumbled back into his room, by which time the sun had fully risen and lit up the sky. He stared at the phone before he sat down on the bed.

There was something else he needed to take care of, something he had been putting off. He reached for his phone and dialled a familiar number.

"Charlie? Yeah, it's me. You need to go to London."

When he awoke later that day, his denial had formed into a white hot anger and resentment. Resentment for Ella. If she didn't want him, he would not longer pine over her! He was _not_ going to have his life ruined, he was stronger than that.

It was late at night when he stumbled out of his bedroom in search for coffee, but regardless, he called the local airport and arranged to have his jet prepared to take off in two hours. He wanted to get out of France as quickly as possible, so after a quick dinner and a cup of coffee he packed his bags in the Rolls, Mortimer driving him to the airport. He slept on the plane, headphones covering his ears, Bon Iver lulling him into slumber. He didn't want to be conscious for any unnecessary amount of time.

He awoke the next morning with pain shooting down his spine. They had landed late at night and he had gone straight to bed, but despite all of the rest he had supposedly received, he was still exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in some work for the company and forget that Ella Bennette had ever existed.

But unfortunately for him, the world seemed to have huge grudge against him. Just as he was preparing to head off to the office, disregarding his sore back, Mrs Reynolds announced that he had a visitor.

"Who on earth even knows that I'm back in London?" he asked snappishly, as she stood in the doorway of his walk in wardrobe.

"He's been ringing and coming here a few times a week to see if you've come back," she informed him.

"Does he have a name?" Wilhelm asked.

"Malcolm du Croix," she answered, as he frowned. He had only had the briefest of conversations with the man, why would he suddenly want to talk to him so badly.

"Get him some coffee and tell him I'll be down soon," he said finally, as Mrs Reynolds nodded, and left the room. He sighed. Just what he needed – a close friend of Ella's to remind him that she _did_ exist.

Wilhelm took his time with changing, he had no desire to talk to anyone at all, let alone someone he barely knew. He was still feeling the sharp sting of seeing Ella again with another man, and he wasn't sure how steady he would be for the next few days.

Eventually he headed downstairs, fully dressed and prepared for a day at the office. He walked through the kitchens to the front sitting room, where he found a pale man with messy brown hair, nervously sipping a cup of coffee. He looked considerably paler than what Darcy recalled, but it could be that his memory lacked the details that he had previously had no need to store.

"Malcolm, right?" Darcy said, stepping into the room. Malcolm instantly stood up, forgetting his coffee. It looked like he had hardly touched it in the first place.

"Yes, that's right," he answered. "Listen – I know that we barely know each other and that we probably wouldn't get along that well if we knew each other any better, but I'm here for a serious reason, not to waste your time," he said firmly, locking his brown eyes with Wilhelm's. He respected that this man had been upfront about his reason for being there, so he instantly deserved some approval.

"Sit down then, finish your coffee," Wilhelm advised, taking a seat.

"That doesn't matter, there isn't time," he snapped nervously. "I need to know if you've seen Ella," he said, getting straight to the point. Wilhelm's gaze instantly narrowed, and confusion filled his mind.

"Why?" he asked curiously, as Malcolm pushed his hair from his face with awkwardness.

"I know what happened between you two – I know that you proposed to her and that she rejected you, I also know that something is going on with you and her that she's not telling me," he explained briefly.

"Yes, but why do you want to know if I've seen her?" Wilhelm asked, trying to find some clarification.

"Because no one has seen her for weeks," Malcolm replied. "After that whole mess with Lye she just… vanished, her Dad said that she was going to go to Marseille after stopping off in Paris, but she never turned up, no one has seen her since," he explained with haste. "Please, if you've seen her tell me! She could be dead!" he cried.

Wilhelm listened with shock, but as he knew where Ella was, and had no real desire to see her again until her supposed fiancée was out of the picture, he didn't feel as much concern as Malcolm did.

"Aren't you in contact with her?" he asked curiously, as Malcolm sighed.

"She hasn't spoken to me for months," he answered bitterly.

"And why, might I ask?" questioned Wilhelm, accepting a cup of coffee offered by a maid who entered the room.

"She and I had an argument about someone," he replied, brushing any real response off. "I don't think you understand how dire this situation is – you love her! Why aren't you worried?" he asked.

"I saw Ella only the other day, that's why I'm not worried," Wilhelm snapped, sipping his coffee.

"Y – you saw her?" Malcolm questioned incredulously. "Where was she? _How_ was she? Who was she with?" he asked quickly.

"She was in the Riviera, she looked fine, and she was with some sort of boyfriend, Jacques something," he answered, as the little colour left in Malcolm's face was drained out of it.

"What has she done…" he muttered softly under his breath, leaning forwards, burying his head in her hands.

"What are you talking about? She looked happy, I suppose that's one thing," Wilhelm countered, disturbed at the man's behaviour.

"You don't get it," Malcolm said unsteadily, his voice smothered by his hands. "She's in a great deal of danger with that man, I don't know how she – his gallery! She must have found him there!" he cried, sitting back in his chair.

"You said that Ella is in danger?" Wilhelm asked, his tone finally becoming tense and worried.

"Jacques is a dangerous man, he's unstable," Malcolm explained. "The Riviera? I can get a flight there – thank you, Darcy," he said, standing up and making to leave the room.

"Don't you dare! I'm not letting you leave until you explain what danger Ella is in," Wilhelm said commandingly.

"I have to get to her as soon as I possibly can," Malcolm objected. "Don't you give a damn?" he questioned sharply.

"Believe you me, Malcolm du Croix, there is _no one_ in this world who cares more about Ella than I do," he said vehemently. "Tell me what is going on!" he demanded. Malcolm sighed, and took a seat.

"It's along story," he warned.

"Tell me anyway," he replied, folding his arms, and evaluating the man sitting before him.

"Well, I suppose it starts when Ella was thirteen – the car accident that killed her mother and paralysed her father," he began, running a hand through his hair. "Ella went to live with her Aunt, Fran Gardiner, May, Jayne and Lye's mother," he continued. "Ella had a horrible experience there as a child, Fran would hit her when her husband went to Germany every year, sometimes for no reason at all, but mostly for cheek. She hated Ella from the start, you see, they never got along, and Fran was very open about that," he explained, as Wilhelm's face turned white.

"You mean that she abused Ella?" he questioned, as Malcolm nodded solemnly. "I – I'll kill her!" he cried, but Malcolm only shook his head.

"Don't go there," he warned. "So that's why Ella ran away to Paris when she was sixteen, she got a scholarship for the best University in France, so she packed her bags and left," he continued. "She lived pretty rough for the first year, we knew each other back then and we would still talk, she had a job running food and she would busk, but almost everything she had went into rent or bills or food, she didn't mind that life at all I guess, it was all some sort of bohemian adventure to her – she wanted independence and that's what she got," he explained.

"I still don't get why she's in danger," Wilhelm interrupted, as Malcolm sighed.

"She met Jacques Petards when she was about seventeen I think, he was a fair bit older than her, well into his twenties by then, and he was a successful artist, he was jut starting up a gallery and people were buying his paintings all the time," he informed him, wringing his hands in his lap. "Jacques started to draw and paint Ella, at first it was for a little bit of extra money so she could get a better apartment, but then it turned into a full-blown relationship, by the time she was eighteen or nineteen or something they had moved in together and were engaged," he continued.

"And?" Wilhelm questioned.

"And Ella loved him. Very, very much. He loved her too, even more, if possible, it was written all over his face, over his art, they inspired each other, and it had been a long time since Ella had anyone to love her, so everything was falling into place for her, she was doing well at school, she had a man who loved her, she was happy," he continued. "She was starting her third year or University when my band, The In Section met with Ella and a few of her friends from London or wherever, we started to play and record a few things, it all looked promising, she has incredible amounts of talent," he explained.

"I know," Wilhelm muttered quietly. "What happened next?" he asked, wanting to hear more, to understand what was going on.

"When we started to talk about getting a record deal or going on tour, things between Jacques and Ella got a little rough. They were already having a bit of trouble, Jacques wanted to marry her but Ella wanted to wait until she was twenty-one, and they would argue a lot," he replied. "But things started to change. I didn't notice it at first, she would come to play with us with a black eye of cuts or bruises, she kept on saying that she had tripped but I knew that something was wrong, it was tearing her up inside and I could just see it all happening," he recalled, with a slight shudder. "W – Watching that beautiful, amazing girl being ripped apart from the inside was just the most horrible thing I've ever experienced," he added quietly.

"He was hitting her?" Wilhelm cried in response, clenching his fists.

"From what I understand, they would argue, he would get a bit violent, and then he would spend the next week apologising and trying to make up for what he had done, which is what made it harder for Ella to see that he was becoming a monster," Malcolm answered. "It was terrible. She would make excuses to herself and to others, the more serious the band got the more serious his abuse got, until she started missing practises and classes because she couldn't get out of bed, she was in so much pain," he continued bitterly. "She's such a strong girl, but it was killing her! She loved him, she wasn't so naïve as to think that what he was doing was okay, but because she loved him she didn't leave, he was destroying her life, pushing everyone away, trying to hide her from the world, and she just let him because she loved him," he said. "He manipulated her, and the ones she loved because he couldn't stand the thought of her leaving him," he added quietly.

There was a long pause. Wilhelm was trying to wind his head around what he was hearing.

"One day I got a call from the hospital," Malcolm said, close to start crying, his voice strained and filled with emotion as he tried to keep it level. "I was told that Ella was in a coma in the Intensive Care Unit, and that I had to come and see her right away," he continued, his tone overwrought with guilt and bitter memories. "She had 'fallen down' a flight of stairs and was badly injured. I knew that Jacques had pushed her the moment I saw him, he was so upset, and it was understandable, for all his faults he was crazy about her, but it was guilt, not just fear and grief," he explained. "And then Jacques told me that the doctors had told him that Ella had been one month pregnant, and had lost the baby," he said, after a strained, loaded pause.

Wilhelm felt his entire world slow to a stop. She was, how old? Nineteen, wasn't it? She had lost a baby when she was only nineteen years old. And – he had practically murdered his own child? He felt white hot anger bubbling up inside of his stomach, rising and threatening to overflow.

"Ella didn't know. She had no idea that she was pregnant, let alone had lost the baby, and we didn't tell her," Malcolm said, continuing on despite his watery eyes. "Seeing her in that hospital bed, with tubes sticking out of her, God…" he trailed off, wiping his eyes quickly. "I made Jacques leave. I made him swear that he wouldn't call her, or try to talk to her again, I made him change his address and number so that Ella wouldn't be able to find him, I arranged for her to be able to complete her last year of University by correspondence and I took her away from him, I did it for her," he said, choking down tears. "She nearly died! I almost lost her, that's why I did it!" he cried.

"I had no idea," Wilhelm said slowly, he too struggling to stay composed. "She always seemed so happy, so free and so… strong," he continued in a soft, incredulous tone.

"She's all of that _despite_ what he did to her," Malcolm said. "That's why she can't be with him – she hates me because I took her away from him, but she doesn't understand that she just _can't_ be with him!" he cried.

"We have to go find her," Wilhelm said, standing up. "We can take my jet – we'll be there by lunch," he said, making a move to get out his phone, and call his pilot.

"I don't want you to help me, I'll find her and bring her back by myself," Malcolm said. Wilhelm turned to glance at him, his face was set.

"I am _going_ after her – because she's meant to be with me, I know it, I can feel it," Wilhelm said firmly. "I love her," he stated.

"You don't _get_ to love her!" snapped Malcolm in frustration and anger. "You didn't watch that girl grow up without her parents there, you didn't watch her overcome her pig of an Aunt and make a whole new life for herself, _by_ herself!" he cried.

"I told you, I love her!" Wilhelm shouted in response.

"And I told you that you don't get to!" Malcolm responded, with an equal tone. "You didn't watch her die every fucking day on the inside, you weren't there! She hated what you did to Jayne, what you said to her, why should that change? You don't deserve someone like Ella!" he cried.

"You love her," stated Wilhelm blankly, interrupting Malcolm's tirade. "That's it, you love her!" he cried, taking a step backwards.

"Don't be an idiot, I love May," he snapped.

"No – you love _Ella_," Wilhelm objected.

"She's like my sister," Malcolm said defensively. "Fine, I love her, but not in that way – I just don't want _you_ to touch her," he snapped.

"If Ella _liked_ me, would you let me be with her?" Wilhelm asked pointedly.

"I'm the one looking out for what's best for Ella, _not_ you," countered Malcolm. "I'm going to find her. Don't you _dare_ interfere – she isn't yours and she never will be," he said coolly.

"For someone that apparently cares for Ella, you certainly don't consider what makes her _happy_," Wilhelm snapped finally. Malcolm sent him one last glare, before turning heel and leaving the room, slapping the front door.

Wilhelm fell back in his chair, and ran a tired hand through his hair. His mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour, Ella, Jacques, Malcolm, Ella's baby, Jayne, Charlie, it was all spinning around in his head and driving him crazy.

"Malcolm!" he cried, jumping up. He dashed out of the house and into the street, and cried out his name again. "Malcolm!" he shouted. A brown head turned, just as it was about to get into an aging Volvo.

"What now?" he snapped, as Wilhelm jogged up to him.

"Is Ella really in danger with this man?" he asked breathlessly.

"He could kill her if he got angry enough," Malcolm replied.

"I know that we don't get along, and that we don't exactly see eye to eye on this, but I want to help, I care about her," he said softly. "I know people in the Riviera, I know where Jacques and Ella are, I can help," he stressed firmly. Malcolm sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and evaluated the man before him.

"You can't have her," he snapped, as Wilhelm raised his hands in an act of submission.

"She isn't an object," he replied. "I have a jet, I know where they are, I have a lot of pull over a lot of people in high places, I can be of great assistance, but we're wasting our time here," he insisted. Malcolm released his breath slowly, before he looked back up.

"Go get your coat and call your pilot. We have to get to France."

**A/N: Okay, let me explain what Ella said to Darcy when she left last chapter.**

**What Ella said was a translation of a poem (the title and the author shall be revealed later on, it's part of the story) that was written in English originally. **

**Now, someone has already pointed out (thank you for your comment, but I have mentioned earlier that both of my parents are French, so I **_**do **_**speak it fluently) that it makes no sense, and to a degree, I agree with you.**

**The poem, even in English, is a little bit strange when it comes to understanding it; some of the sentences are incorrect and so forth, so as a result, the French translation follows that same pattern. I didn't translate this poem myself, because if I did, it would be different, the translation I used was not something like an online language translator or a French English dictionary, but a translation that can be found in a particular book of the poet's works. I've always loved this particular translation, even if, like the original poem, it doesn't make complete sense, it makes even **_**less**_** sense than the English version, but there is something about this poem, like no matter what language the author writes it in, it's not quite correct. Ella only quoted the translation, and it was written by a male, that's why she said 'ma cherie', and I was hoping a French-speaking reader would pick up on it.**

**So I get that it might have bothered some people, because it wasn't correct, but it's actually meant to be that way, purposely misleading and difficult to understand. I recently found this poem written in English, and I loved it, never having read it in it's original form before. I'll ask you politely to wait and see where the poem leads to, because it will all be explained later on. Sorry for the confusion, I'm a pain in the ass, I know.**


	34. Solitaire

A/B: I recommend you listen to Bon Iver in this chapter, preferably Re: Stacks

**A/B: I recommend you listen to Bon Iver in this chapter, preferably Re: Stacks**

**This chapter wasn't originally a fanfiction story at all. I wrote it last year in my English exams and it got put in the yearbook, so I guess that people liked it. I always liked this story too :D**

She looked up as he entered the room; he glanced over at her as she sat on the floor, a deck of cards before her. He said nothing and continued walking through to the kitchen, boiling the kettle as she shuffled the deck.

His sweater was grey and his eyes especially blue, but she forced her head down, taking no notice. She placed one card face up before her. A black Ten of Hearts.

She heard him take the kettle, boiled, and pour it into the pot. She could faintly smell the aroma of Premium Blend wafting towards her, but she once again forced her head down.

Next to the ten of Hearts, she placed down another card, face down. She placed five more cards next to each other; all face down in a row. She heard him take out a mug from the cabinet, but she ignored the faint sounds he was making as he cluttered around the kitchen. Atop the second card she placed another, face up, a King of Clubs. She smiled softly.

On the next face down card she placed another card of the same situation, continuing on in a row until she had repeated the act several times over, and was left with a Ten of Hearts, a King of Hearts, a Five of Spades, a Six of Diamonds, a Four of Spades, a Two of Diamonds, and an Ace of Hearts.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched him precariously pour the tea into two mugs, one black and large, and if you were to run your hand along the side you would feel several small indentations where the designer attempted the craft a pattern. It was heavy and large and fitted perfectly in his palm. The other mug was short and fat, like a soup bowl. It was a pale pink, and he had bought it for her. It was smooth and the handle was too big for her tiny hand but she loved it – because he bought it for _her_.

She moved the black Five onto the Six and uncovered the new card, another black Six. She placed the red Ace above all the other cards and turned over the one beneath it, the red Queen of Hearts that was revealed then sits on the black King of Clubs, and she uncovered the next the next that was beneath that, another Queen, this one of Clubs.

He then added the sugar to the tea, one for himself, and two for her. He got the milk and poured it carefully into his mug, stirring as he went to monitor the colour of the liquid. He did the same for hers, until his was a warm, red-brown colour and hers was a pale beige. He stirred them until the sugar had dissolved.

Of the remaining deck of cards, she took the first three, and turned them over. She had no use for the Eight, so she drew another three. She placed a Nine of Hearts on the first black ten, and then drew three. She put the red Three on the black Four, and drew three. She drew another three. And another. She got a Four, and put it on the Five. Then there was a black three that she put on the Four, before she covered it with a red Two. She then uncovered a black Nine of Spades.

She wondered what he was doing at that moment, hundreds of miles away, perhaps in London, or in Pemberley. It wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to be thinking of Darcy, she had Jacques now.

He took out the spoons and placed them in the sink. He grabbed the tin of biscuits that his mother had made him and put them on a plate. Balancing, he took the two cups and the plate and walked through to where she was sitting, just as she had drawn an unsuccessful three. She drew the last three and found the black heart of Clubs; she placed it on the top where it belonged.

He sat down before her, putting down the plates and the mugs. She added the last two to the deck and turned them over, drawing another three. She found the black Eight again – but this time she had a use for it. She put it over the red Nine, and then covered it with the appearing Seven.

He took the revealed Ace and moved it up to the corner to join its fellows. She said nothing. He sipped his tea, but she didn't look at him.

She put the red Two on the red Ace, and drew three. It was a black King, but she didn't need it. She drew another three, and put the red three on the red Two before drawing again, unsuccessfully, she didn't need the red Nine.

She wondered if Darcy was thinking of her. She still remembered his kisses, the red hot flames that licked over her face in delicious guilt. Guilt for enjoying his caresses more than she enjoyed Jacques'.

He placed the black Six that she had forgotten on the red Seven, and she bit her lip, before taking the new Five and putting it atop the Six, and then uncovering another. It was a black Two, so she put it on the Ace. There was blank spot, and she moved the King over.

He overturned the card that the King was on, and revealed a red Joker. She put the Joker on the Queen, and there was another space. Before she drew again he put the black Ten and all of its friends on the Joker.

He smelt like cinnamon and she hated that she loved the way he smelt. She sat back and sipper her tea, evaluating the game. She put the black Four and the red Three on the red Five, and uncovered another red Five. She drew three. And drew another three. And the last two cards. There was nothing, so she turned the cards over, and drew the top three.

She put the black King in the space revealed and moved the red Two atop the red Ace. She didn't need the red Ten, so she drew three. And three again. She muttered something as she drew another three, before the last black Queen again. She turned the deck over and drew three.

She sipped from her mug and let the heat warm her, folding her legs underneath her body. He was looking at her and she knew it, but she couldn't look at him. Instead she drew three. She noticed the red three on the last length of cards and put it atop the red Two, but the black Four is not needed.

He was beautiful and she couldn't stand it. She nibbled at a biscuit and drew three. Then another three. And then the last black Queen, for the third time. The last black Queen.

It was raining and somehow Bon Iver was playing from the stereo. She frowned and drew three, and then another three, and another when it yielded no results. She almost groaned as she saw the useless black Five, and then the lonely black Queen.

He was still looking at her and she knew it. He sipped his tea and ate his biscuit as she drew three endlessly, yielding no results. She was searching for the last Ace. He tried to help, but she scowled.

"The game is called _solitaire_," she pointed out to him.

"Actually, it's called patience," he replied, standing up, taking his empty mug with him as he walked into the kitchen. She angrily continued to draw three, looking for possible solutions. But again and again she was met with that lonely black Queen of Hearts. She needed the final Ace to finish the game, as it wasn't going anywhere, but she couldn't find it.

He smelt like cinnamon, books, tea and biscuits. His grey sweater was on the floor and his blue eyes were closed. She sat up in bed, and stared out the window. It was still raining and somehow she still heard Bon Iver. She listened to his quiet, rhythmical breathing and watched his chest rise and fall, seeing the curled black letters of her name tattooed on his side expand and reduce to their normal side. She wondered what it would be like if Darcy was lying there, instead of Jacques. She regretted the thought and wanted to kiss Jacques, but he was sleeping, and she didn't want to wake him up.

She brought her legs up beneath her chin and hummed softly. She was thinking about Darcy and didn't notice his blue eyes flutter open.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked her softly, as she glanced back down at him. He somehow looked like a professor to her when he gave her that curious expression. It mattered not that he had long brown hair that his mother called 'emo' and that he pierced his eyebrow when he was seventeen over the bathroom sink, or even that he hadn't shaved in months because she loved the way he looked with a stubble-like beard. She shrugged her shoulders and looked out the window. It was still raining.

"I'm not tired," she told him softly. It was a lie. She was tired, but sleeping would do her no good.

His eyes were blue and so was the sunny day sky, but the night sky was dark with the stormy weather and his eyes were light. Her eyes were the stormy blue colour that the sky had adopted and her hair was chocolate brown. Her skin was pale and so was the moon, his skin was pale too, but like an eggshell.

"It's late," he said, rolling over in bed so he could be closer to her as she slid down and rested her head on the pillow, staring at the roof.

Darcy's eyes were grey like the sweater lying on the floor, and his hair was dark like the colour of the colour of the bedside table. He was pale like an eggshell too, but from an entirely different chicken.

"I know."

"Do you want me to get you some warm milk?"

She shook her head.

"I love you, you know," he told her softly, as she nodded. But even though her name was tattooed down his side, and even though they live together, and even though they shared a bed and a love of Bon Iver, she didn't want him to. "Get some sleep," he whispered, kissing her on her forehead as she rolled over. She kissed him softly on the lips and rolled over again, looking at his sweater on the floor, and wishing that _he_ was there, lying next to her, _his_ hand softly running through her hair.

She felt a tear slip from her eyes when she spotted the black Ace lying next to the sweater.

He couldn't let her win, not even at patience. She cried and squeezed her eyes shut, wincing when he touched her, praying silently that she won't wake up in the morning, or that she _would_, and the last nine years of her life would all be a dream.

Even though he had tattooed her name on her chest she knew that he wasn't going to be the one she spent the rest of her life with. He didn't call the game patience because he was taught to say it that way, but because he didn't want her to do anything by herself.

She cried into his chest, pretending that it was Darcy holding her. His chest smelt like his sweater, which smelt like cinnamon and books and tea and biscuits. He didn't know why she cried so, but she knew. It burned in her mind, searing pain shooting through her body mixed with guilt.

She loved someone else and she was crying into the wrong man's arms.

He had hurt her, he had almost taken away her life and maybe he had taken away the life of their child – but she didn't know. She didn't even know if there _was_ a child.

More than anything she wished that she hated him, but she didn't. She didn't hate him, although that would have made it easier. She wanted him to be someone else, someone with grey eyes like the discarded sweater and brown hair like the bedside table, but at the same time – God, she didn't want to be taken away from him. Her feelings were indescribable.

The next morning she took the black Ace, and finished the game. Bon Iver was playing, it was raining and the smell of tea and cinnamon was wafting towards her, but all she wanted to do was cry.

**A/N: Can I just say, once again, that I did NOT do the translation of the French two chapters ago, and I'm really glad that people are always willing to help and that, I don't appreciate private messages or reviews where people are still trying to correct me, even though I have stated that I **_**know**_** it's not quite right, but she isn't even **_**saying**_** 'I fear no destiny, you are my destiny, my darling'. So please just wait and see where it leads. In the meantime, a pretty little review is always good :D**


	35. Patience

**A/N: This is the last chapter that will be in this style, don't worry. I just thought I'd let you see a little more of Jacques, I like writing about his character. I still recommend you listen to 'RE: stacks' by Bon Iver during this chapter, and not any of the other songs I've advised before, because the atmosphere is supposed to be a bit different, sort of 'I know I'm going to lose you very soon', but that doesn't make sense to anyone who isn't me…**

**Disclaimer: I keep forgetting to put these in each chapter… yeah, I don't own Pride and Prejudice. Obviously.**

He glanced over at her when he entered the room, she was sitting on the floor, her legs crossed, a deck of playing cards before her. She didn't say anything but turned back to her cards and shuffled the deck as he continued on to the kitchen and boiled the kettle.

He watched her start to line up the cards, her curls falling before her eyes, yet she ignored them. She wore a long, baggy white cotton shirt with a low V-neck; it allowed him to catch several glimpses of her beautiful creamy skin. Skin that she hadn't allowed him to touch since she returned to France. She said she needed time and he respected that, he loved her so very much.

He took the kettle and poured it into the tea pot. The aroma of the rich, Premium Blend tea filled the kitchen as she continued to play with her cards.

Her shirt was white, the colour of milk. The cotton clung to her form as she leant forwards to move a card, more of her hair spilling from the loose tie at the nape of her neck. Something was wrong and he knew it, but he asked no questions. He was frightened of the answers.

She didn't look up as he cluttered softly through the kitchen, searching for their mugs, the sugar bowl, the tin of biscuits that his mother had given him last week. She started to move the cards around more, now that the game was set up. He pulled forwards their mugs – his was black and fit perfectly into her palm, and hers was fat and pink. He poured out the tea slowly, carefully, not wanting to spill any hot water on his person.

He added the sugar to the mugs, and then the milk. He watched the colour of the warm liquid change, he was an artist so he recognised the shades perfectly. He then stirred in the sugar until it had dissolved, and reached for the biscuits, putting a few on a plate. She hadn't been eating very much and he was concerned, but his mother made very nice biscuits, and she would eat several at a time when they were placed before her.

He wished that things could be different. He wished that they had never suffered the three year separation; he wished that he could control his temper and he wished that their baby hadn't died, it would be about four months and two years old by then, had it lived. More than anything he wanted her to laugh and smile again; he wanted her to be _his_ Ella. But wishes didn't always come true, he knew that only too well.

She started to draw three and go through the cards. She looked thoughtful; she stopped playing for a second and stared at her own hands, lost in thought. She had been doing that a lot recently.

He took the mugs and the biscuits in his hands and started to make his way over to her. He placed them on the floor and sat down, watching her play. She drew three, and took an ace and moved it forwards, the material of her shirt swaying softly, curves of flesh that he had remembered by heart glimpsed before she moved back.

He sipped his tea and watched her play. He moved a card that she had forgotten, and it earned him a slight glare. Anything to make her look at him again.

She had grown so much. Not just her body, but her personality. He wished that he could have been with her when she struggled through fame and the celebrity life, the life that she had never even wanted but had regretfully resented, he wished that he could rewind three years and live it all over again, in a different way.

It was raining. He had the remote for the stereo in his pocket and he turned it on, Bon Iver playing softly in the background. He overturned a card that had been previously covered by King, and revealed a joker. She moved the joker, and he moved the ten and it's fellows atop it.

She looked beautiful, as always. He had filled hundreds of sketchbooks with her likeness; it was all he could think of. Her. Three years had done nothing but strength his love for her, it was now all-consuming and almost suffocating.

He watched her sip her tea and evaluate the game, before leaning forwards again and moving another card. She drew three a few times, but it was of little to no help to her. She moved some cards and drew three again, and again, until she was staring with frustration at a familiar black Queen.

As she sipped from her mug, he subtly pulled a card out of the deck. He slid it up his jumper sleave, watching her carefully as she started to move more cards and draw more threes. She continued to draw three over and over again, always yielding no results, the black Queen showing up time and time again. If she could only find the black ace… he hoped that it wasn't the card he had taken. He wanted her to win, he did. Just not by herself. She was growing frustrated and annoyed, but she stubbornly continued to draw three.

"The game is called _solitaire_," she snapped at him when he made a move to help, or at least put his taken card back.

"Actually, it's called patience," he replied, standing up, and taking his empty mug with him to the kitchen. She still tried, and tried, but with no results.

He awoke later that night to see her sitting up in bed, the sleave of her nightgown sliding off her beautiful shoulder. She was humming slightly, her brilliant eyes twinkling softly in the twilight.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked her softly, before she glanced back down at him. She looked at him as if she didn't know how he had gotten there, and then she shrugged, turning back to look at the window.

"I'm not tired," she replied softly. He knew it was a lie. She had dark circles around her eyes and she was stressed, but he felt that maybe she needed something other than a good night's sleep.

"It's late," he reminded her, rolling over in bed as she slid down, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, in the way that they used to hold each other. She was stiff, and stared only at the room.

"Do you want me to get you some warm milk?" he asked. Whenever she couldn't sleep he made her warm milk, and he held her softly in his arms, whispering quiet messages of love into her ears.

She shook her head by way of reply.

"I love you, you know," he told her softly. She nodded. He felt a stab of pain when she didn't reply that she loved him too. Something was wrong and he knew it, but he wanted her to be okay so very badly that he didn't press. "Get some sleep," he only said simply, kissing her forehead before she rolled over, away from him. She looked at something on the floor, probably not even seeing it, probably lost in thought. He softly ran his hand through her hair as an act of comfort, even though he felt her wince and stiffen even more.

He felt his heart break.

He suddenly came to the realisation that she hadn't said 'I love you' for over three years, certainly not when she met up with him in Paris. She said she had needed closure. She hadn't said that she needed him.

He thought all of his dreams had come true when she turned up in Paris, he knew that Malcolm had denied her access to him and he knew that she had been through a fairly painful ordeal since they last met, he knew that the moment she buried her face into his chest and began to cry that things were never going to be the same. But had had ignored that feeling.

All of a sudden she turned around, and buried her head in his chest, weeping. He felt her tears on his skin and held her close, trying to soothe her like he did three years ago. She continued to cry and he didn't know what was wrong, but he didn't press. He let her get it all out.

He wanted her to love him again. He wanted her to be _his_ Ella, no one else's.

**A/N: I'm sorry it was a small chapter :( But please review anyway :D I meant to update sooner but I was at a Halloween party, so I didn't get a chance :/ I promise I'll keep trying to update daily :D I'm not sure how much longer this is going to be, but it'll be wrapped up soon, I'm sorry :(**


	36. You could be happy

**A/N: Well, I promise that in the next chapter we see Ella and Jacques again :D The song used in this chapter is 'Accidental Babies', and I know you've all had enough angst, and this doesn't have nearly as much in it, in fact, there isn't that much more throughout the rest of the story, but please, just put up with it lol. I promise that soon the whole French phrase thing will come up again, fully explained :D**

_Je peur non destine, pour vous etes ma destine, ma cherie…_

_Je peur non destine, pour vous etes ma destine, ma cherie…_

_Je peur non destine, pour vous etes ma destine, ma cherie…_

I fear no destiny, for you are my destiny, my darling.

It tore into his mind. The normal emotions he had when the jet was taking off had been replaced by that one phrase, running over and over in his head. All he could think about was Ella, and… Jacques. But all of a sudden her words had popped into his head all over again, and the memory of her soft goodbye kiss. He had asked Malcolm about it very briefly, he had even googled the phrase, in both English and French, but he found nothing.

He was sitting in the back of the jet; Malcolm was in the front, in the other room. Some people felt it was ridiculous that he had a keyboard in his jet, but they obviously didn't know him well enough. When the plane had taken off he had locked himself in the back section of the jet, away from Malcolm and his silence, seeking solace in the confines of his own creative bubble. Unlike any of the other songs he had written, this one was different. It was quick to come out, like many were, but it wasn't a response to one of Ella's songs, it was his acceptance. He knew that if she had chosen to stay with this man, despite all he had done, it meant that she loved him a great deal. He couldn't stand that thought – it was pure torture to him. Even though they were in a plane flying to the Riviera to separate Ella and Jacques again, he knew that there was no longer any hope for them.

"_Well I held you like a lover,_

_Happy hands,_

_An elbow in the appropriate place_

_And we ignored the other,_

_Happy plans,_

_The delicate look upon your face_

_Our bodies moved and hardened_

_Hurting parts of your garden_

_With no room for a pardon_

_In a place where no one knows_

_What we have done_

_Do you come?_

_Together ever with him?_

_Is he dark enough?_

_Enough to see your light?_

_Do you brush your teeth before you kiss?_

_Do you miss my smell?_

_Is he bold enough to take you on?_

_Do you feel like you belong?_

_And does he drive you wild?_

_Or just mildly free?_

_What about me?_

_Well you held me like a lover,_

_Sweaty hands,_

_Foot in the appropriate place_

_We used cushions to curve,_

_Happy glands,_

_The mild issue of our disgrace_

_Our minds pressed and guarded,_

_While our flesh disregarded,_

_The lack of space,_

_For the light hearted _

_In the boom which beats our drum_

_And I know I make you cry,_

_I know sometimes you wanna die,_

_But do you really feel life without me?_

_So be free, if not leave him for me,_

_Before one of us has _

_Accidental babies_

_For we aren't free_

_Do you come?_

_Together ever with him?_

_Is he dark enough?_

_Enough to see your light?_

_Do you brush your teeth before you kiss?_

_Do you miss my smell?_

_Is he bold enough to take you on?_

_Do you feel like you belong?_

_And does he drive you wild?_

_Or just mildly free?_

_What about me?_

_What about me?"_

He angrily slammed his hand on the keys, the loud clang awakening him from his reverie.

What had this woman done to him? He realized that he hardly knew her at all. He didn't know what her favourite colour was, he didn't know what she liked to do on a Saturday night or her plans for the future, yet despite all of that, he still adored her completely.

He wondered if Jacques felt the same way about her. He wondered if Jacques knew everything there was to know about her, he wondered if perhaps, he loved her even more than Wilhelm himself loved her.

He tried desperately to push her from his mind. He instead thought over the situation with Charlie. He had been furious when he discovered Wilhelm's part in his separation with Jayne, but he was mostly angry with himself, angry that he hadn't survived that test of love, and he was determined to make everything up to Jayne. Wilhelm felt terrible. How could he have done that to his friend? He understood what he had done was wrong, for good reasons, but wrong.

His mind continued to wander. The ordeal with Gee Wickham was well and truly over, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. His only comfort was that the man was locked up in jail, and it would be at least fifteen years before he saw the light of day again. That didn't help that Ella's cousin was an absolute twit, but she was young, only nineteen.

The number reverberated around his mind. Nineteen. Ella had been nineteen when she almost lost her life, and indeed lost the life of her unborn child. How he wished that the unborn child could have been _his_, not Jacques', even if it had died he would have still loved it for all eternity.

He checked his phone quickly for any messages, not knowing what he was searching for. He knew that there would be no news from Charlie for several days, until he had worked off all of his anger towards his supposed 'friend'. He didn't even know Charlie's plans for the future. Would he go back to Jayne? He supposed he had been rather stupid, a complete snob. How could he decide his friend's fate for him? And based on Jayne's family? He was an awful, arrogant, horrid excuse for a human being.

And what was worse, Ella had spelt that out very clearly to him. He just wished that he could have changed things. He wished so very much…

But it was time to move on. He had no hope with Ella.

He stopped playing when they were reaching Marseille. It was only a few minutes away from the Riviera, so Wilhelm exited the back section of the jet, to see Malcolm, sitting calmly in one of the seats, staring at the back of one of the chairs.

"Don't like flying?" Wilhelm asked, awakening Malcolm from his musings.

"What? Oh – no, I don't mind it," he replied, glancing over at Wilhelm as if he had forgotten he was there. Wilhelm took a seat in the chair opposite Malcolm, facing him directly.

"You don't like me," he stated simply. "We've never previously shared a conversation, which means that you have all of your accounts from Ella," he continued. "But Ella and I were getting along so much better, so why do you still hate me?" he questioned, as Malcolm sent him an annoyed, tired glance.

"It's not that I don't like _you,_ I'm sure you're a decent guy, but I just want to be careful with Ella," he explained.

"She isn't a child, Malcolm," Wilhelm reminded him.

"She isn't an adult yet either," he snapped in return.

"So she made mistakes! She walked out of an abusive situation to get some independence, she was vulnerable and people like Jacques feed off that emotion, I commend her for being so strong about the whole thing," Wilhelm countered. "Are you sure that you don't… feel something for her?" he asked carefully.

"I've told you, I adore May, I would do anything for her," he said, running a hand through his now tousled brown hair as he fidgeted in the seat.

"That wasn't the question," Wilhelm reminded him. Malcolm sighed, and sat back in the chair.

"I did for a while," he began. "Or at least I thought I did. I saw this great girl, she was beautiful and smart, funny and really passionate about a million things, I thought 'this is the perfect woman', and I convinced myself that I was in love with her, because she was the kind of girl you search for all your life," he continued. "But then… I sort of realised that despite how amazing she was, I didn't love her, not like that," he added. "She was like my sister. I care about her _very_ much, but I love May, not Ella."

"Why are you always being so overprotective?" he questioned in response.

"I just – I don't want to lose her," he answered softly.

"What was she like before she met Jacques?" Wilhelm asked, after a pause. He was looking out the plane window, a pained expression on his face. "Before her mother died?"

"She was absolutely crazy," Malcolm replied, with a soft smile. "She would run around mad from dawn till dusk, she loved swimming and climbing trees, and reading in unusual places, like under the stairs or in a hammock she swung underneath the balcony of her house," he explained. "They were the perfect family. Her father had a bookstore, he sold and repaired old books, and it got them a decent amount of money, and her mother inherited a fair bit when she married, so they had plenty to live by, but they could have lived on a third of it and still be happy," he continued. "They had a lovely old house, and it was Ella's playground, she named all of the trees and would sing songs for the flowers, she loved nature more than she loved the indoors, I can tell you that much," he added.

"Sounds like she had a happy childhood," Wilhelm commented, with a soft smile.

"She was Mummy and Daddy's little Princess, Sophia knew she was going to grow up and do something amazing, so she always encouraged her, and Jean-Baptiste would do anything for his family, it broke his heart to send her away, but he knew it was the only thing he could do, he couldn't look after her anymore, and he wanted the best for her," Malcolm continued. "She was still wild and crazy when she went to England, a bit more subdued, after she lost her mother, but that was to be expected. But she was so full of anger, full of fight, I knew she was going to self-destruct… but I didn't stop her fast enough." He said bitterly.

"I just wanted to know if…" began Wilhelm. "If she was happy with Jacques," he managed to get out, his head bowed.

"I don't think so," Malcolm replied, after a little while. "She convinced herself that she was, just like I convinced myself that I loved her, because all of the reasons are there, you know them, you can see a happy life in front of you but somehow… it's not what you want, and you live in denial until something bursts the bubble," he explained. "When my bubble was burst it was May, and I couldn't believe how amazing my life had suddenly become, but when hers burst, she woke up in a hospital bed in the Intensive Care Unit," he added.

"I want her to be happy."

"As much as I hate to admit it – I think that you might be able to make her," Malcolm admitted softly. Wilhelm looked up, with the tiniest flicker of something akin to hope in his eyes.

Charlie slammed the phone down on the receiver with anger. How dare he! How _dare_ he do such a thing! He was so furious with Wilhelm, he had always been like an elder brother, even somewhat of a father figure to him, and yet he separated him from Jayne, beautiful Jayne, simply because he 'thought she was out for your money'.

But he was angry with himself too. Why did he believe Darcy when he knew full well that he loved Jayne, and Jayne loved him? It was a test. Had he ignored what Darcy had said, he would have passed. He bitterly sat down in his office chair. He had failed.

He tiredly ran a hand through his now messy red hair. He had treated Jayne abominably and now he was going to pay the price, but he wished so very much that they could start over again.

"Charlie! Stop sitting around, why aren't you doing anything?" came a voice from the doorway. It was Caroline, standing there in all of her Gucci perfection.

"I'm allowed to think, Caroline," Charlie replied pointedly.

"Is it making you money? No? Then you can't," she snapped. "I came to collect you – there's a lunch that I want to attend but I need _you_ there," she informed him.

"And why do you need _me_?" he questioned.

"There's going to be this terribly drab business man there, I wouldn't go, but his daughter is an heiress, and _she's_ friends with Melissa Fairchild, whose step-brother is _Marvin_ Fairchild," she explained.

"Isn't he some rich football player?" Charlie questioned.

"Exactly," she replied, as she started to inspect her nails.

"Actually, I can't go with you," Charlie replied suddenly.

"What? What do you mean? I can't listen to that Lord what's-his-face go on for a half hour!" she cried, her eyes narrowing. "Why can't you come?" she questioned.

"Because I'm going to London," he answered, standing up, and walking out of the room, feeling better than he had in months.

**A/N: I added that last little bit on with Charlie just then, originally it was going to be a whole separate chapter, but I've decided against it for now :D Please review!**


	37. This is the way the world ends

'_Life is very long._

_Between the desire,_

_And the spasm_

_Between the potency,_

_And the existence_

_Between the essence,_

_And the descent,_

_Falls the Shadow._

_For Thine is the Kingdom_

_For Thine is,_

_Life is,_

_For Thine is the – _

_This is the way the world ends._

_This is the way the world ends._

_This is the way the world ends,_

_With not a bang, but a whimper.'_

T. S. Eliot, _The Hollow Men_

'_I'm really close tonight, and feel like I'm moving inside her_

_Lying in the dark, and I think that I'm beginning to know her,_

_Let it go, I'll be there when you call_

_And whenever I fall at your feet,_

_Would you let your tears rain down on me?_

_Whenever I touch your slow turning pain,_

_You're hiding from me now_

_There's something in the way that you're talking_

_Words don't sound right, but I hear them all moving inside you_

_Go on now, I'll be there when you call_

_And whenever I fall at your feet,_

_Would you let your tears rain down on me?_

_Whenever I touch your slow turning pain,_

_The finger of blame has turned upon itself,_

_And I'm more than willing to offer myself,_

_Do you want my presence or need my help?_

_Who knows where that might lead?_

_I fall…_

_The finger of blame has turned upon itself,_

_And I'm more than willing to offer myself,_

_Do you want my presence or need my help?_

_Who knows where that might lead?'_

_- 'Fall at Your Feet', written by Crowded House, version performed by James Blunt_

Malcolm stared doubtfully at the waiting Rolls Royce, Mortimer holding the door open with a look of utter servitude on his face.

"A Rolls?" he said questioningly, as Wilhelm shrugged.

"I like the classics," he replied, getting into the car, before Malcolm hesitatingly followed.

"So you've got three houses, two cars including that Chevrolet I've seen you drive, and I don't think I've ever seen you out of Armani, exactly how many CDs have you sold?" he questioned, reaching for his seatbelt in the spacious back seat, the dark red leather giving him no comfort, only unease.

"Actually, I have something like twelve estates, I don't even _know_ how many cars I own but it's certainly more than two, and I like Armani – but you're over exaggerating, I wear a lot of Ralph Lauren and Calvin Kline," he replied, pulling out a slip of paper from his pocket, and handing it to his driver, as Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. "What? You've got to be earning a fair bit too, you're in one of the most popular bands around these days," he pointed out.

"I doubt I'll ever be earning anything even close to what you've got," he replied. "Can you tell him to hurry up? And are you sure that the address your friend with the F. Scott Fitzgerald fetish gave you is right?" he asked, anxious energy filling his voice.

"It's right," Wilhelm replied, looking out the window. In truth he was a complete mess, but he didn't want Malcolm to see that. He wanted, he _needed_ to see Ella as fast as he possibly could. If something had happened to her he wouldn't be able to live. It would completely destroy him.

The drive wasn't a long one, and the scenery was very pretty, but neither Malcolm nor Wilhelm took any notice. Both were thinking the same thing; '_what if it's too late_?'

Soon enough, they were turning onto the correct road, and Wilhelm sat up in apprehension. He wasn't sure what he was going to see, he wasn't sure what he was going to do, he figured that the words and the actions he needed would be staring back at him when he saw Ella again.

They approached the house that Gatz had described. A nice, two story villa but it looked several times taller, with a pretty garden out the front, and a glimpse of a pool in the back. Mortimer pulled up on the drive, and scarcely before the car had stopped moving Wilhelm and Malcolm were out, and heading over to the front door.

Wilhelm sent an uneasy glance to Malcolm when he saw that the front door had been left open. They could hear snippets of arguing voices coming from what seemed like upstairs, and at the sound of Ella's angry cry they slipped through the front door, and hurried up the stairs. Neither cared that they hadn't been invited, that they hadn't knocked, all that they cared about was making sure that Ella was okay.

The raised voices only got louder as they ascended the stairs; they were speaking French, shouting back and forwards between each other from the main living room of the house. The double doors were spread wide open, revealing a tastefully decorated room with a couch or two, playing cards thrown over the floor, and suitcases waiting to be taken downstairs. Continuing Wilhelm's glance over the room, he saw a very agitated Jacques running a hand continuously through his now messy hair as he screamed back at Ella, who was throwing a few objects into one more open suitcase as she shouted back to Jacques. There were large French doors opening out to what looked like a small balcony, sunshine streaming into the room.

"I don't _care_!" cried Ella angrily, wiping stray tears from her eyes. "I don't give a damn about what you have to – Darcy?" she said suddenly, turning around to face the intruders. "M – Malcolm?" she questioned with great confusion. She was paler than he remembered, and her eyes were red-rimmed, with dark purple circles surrounding them. She looked thinner as well, not healthy at all. Jacques wheeled around to the entrance of the room when he caught the line of her gaze, his expression turning hard and angry.

"_You_!" Jacques cried, glaring at Malcolm. "How can you even show up here! Get out! Get _out_!" he screamed, his eyes flashing darkly. "What are you two even doing here? Get out!" he continued.

"Leave them alone Jacques – they have nothing to do with you," Ella spat, but she was still very much bewildered.

"Ella, we want you to come with us," Malcolm said calmly, keeping a steady eye on Jacques as he spoke.

"Don't you _dare_ – you aren't taking her away again," snapped Jacques, making a move to stand beside Ella.

"Mr Petards? I would advise that you should perhaps sit down, and allow Ella to leave," Wilhelm said calmly, startling both Ella and Malcolm.

"You're Darcy, right? What the hell are you doing here?" Jacques questioned. "How do you even know this son of a bitch?" he asked, glaring at Malcolm.

"Ella and I met at the start of the year, and Malcolm is a close friend of hers. We've known each other for about seven months," he replied pointedly. "I pretended I didn't know her because I knew she was with you – I had no idea about what a screw-up you really were," he continued. Jacques sent a surprised look over at Ella, who was staring at Wilhelm.

"Who the hell _is_ this guy?" Malcolm asked, getting more and more annoyed.

"Lord Wilhelm J. N. Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire, CEO of Darcy International," Ella recited, crossing her arms, and quirking an eyebrow at Wilhelm. He recognised the familiar jut of her chin as she raised it slightly, meaning she was prepared for a fight.

"At your service, Miss Zimmerman," Wilhelm replied playfully, forgetting for a moment that they were not alone in the room. "I would like you to come with Malcolm and I – we have a car outside, we can take you to London if you want, but if you want some time away from your family you could always stay at Pemberley," he offered, but Ella shook her head, and was about to reply, before Jacques interrupted.

"She isn't going anywhere!" he cried loudly, Wilhelm seeing a flash of the man that had thrown Ella down the stairs and landed her in hospital across his face. He grew frightened for Ella's safety – Jacques was unhinged. "Three years! Three _years_!" he screamed, reaching for an end table from one of the couches, and picking up a glass paperweight. "You did that to me – to her!" he cried, launching it at Malcolm.

Malcolm instinctively ducked, shards of glass flying everywhere, but he was unharmed. Wilhelm glanced over Ella to make sure that she hadn't been hit by anything, before he glanced at his own person. Miraculously, no one in the room had been injured.

"Jacques, _stop_!" Ella cried angrily. "I swear to God – if anyone gets hurt I'm going to push you out of that window! I've had enough of you!" she continued heatedly.

"Stay."

Jacques' voice was firm, hard, extremely commanding. Wilhelm's first impressions of the man had shown him to be a pleasant, sensible man, but that Jacques was completely gone – he could understand why Malcolm had been so frightened for Ella's safety. All Wilhelm wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms and take her home, take her to Pemberley, where she belonged.

"Fuck. Off."

Ella's response was firm and hard as well, but Wilhelm winced when he realised that it was missing the danger of Jacques' command. Ella's tone was challenging and full of anger, but he knew that Jacques' tone suggested that he would follow up his order by force. Ella would resist, kick, scream and fight, but in the end, it would be Jacques that would throw the first attack.

"Everything we had! All of it! We were together for two years before this whole mess – three years of separation just proves how much we love each other!" Jacques cried, clenching his fist. "And now you just tell me that you're leaving? How can you do that to me?" he questioned furiously.

"I was _seventeen_ when I met you Jacques, I thought you were amazing and wonderful, I was too blind to see the real you!" she cried.

"I never meant to hurt you! I never – it was always a mistake! You just made me so _angry_, why would you give up what we had to run around the world playing music? If you go away I'll lose everything, not just my lover but my _muse_!" he responded, kicking the leg of the end table that he had recently robbed of its paperweight. The table crashed to the floor, the porcelain lamp exploding into a million pieces, a book crushing the weak paper lampshade.

"There is _no_ excuse for what you did to me," she said, anger vibrating from her tones, fire dancing in her eyes. Jacques gave a soft smile.

"You would always fight back. I knew that I couldn't stop you, even if I wanted to," he said very quietly, Wilhelm wasn't even sure that Ella had heard.

"Jacques, I swear to God if you don't let her leave right now –" threatened Malcolm. But Jacques' stale laugh interrupted his words; Wilhelm knew full well that Malcolm wouldn't do anything.

"What? You'll throw another punch at me and think that I'll never come back again? That I'll leave Ella alone for the rest of her life? I respected that you didn't let me see her because I knew two things," he replied, his tone softening slightly so his words were not being screamed across the Riviera. "Number one, Ella needed some time before she returned to me, and number two, we were meant to be together, and not even you can take that away from us," he snapped.

"I don't even know why I fell in love with you! You're such an arrogant _prick_!" Ella cried at Jacques.

"I told you to _stay_!" he screamed, pointing a single finger at her, his voice rising once again. "You're _not_ leaving this room!" he cried.

"You aren't my father, Jacques, you can't make me do anything," she shouted in response. Wilhelm evaluated the room. Jacques wasn't in the near vicinity of anything he could throw, and it seemed like there was some sort of invisible barrier between him and Ella, even though only a few metres separated them from each other. But still, he wanted Ella away from the man as soon as possible.

"Slowly. Back away. Get behind me." Wilhelm spoke calmly, clearly, in perfect Japanese. He knew that Ella had been learning, she had mentioned it a few times, and at Pemberley he had even helped her with some of her pronunciation. Hopefully she would be able to understand what he was saying, and the look in her eyes told him that she could. She didn't move at first, because that would give everything away to Jacques. But she did look around the room to see the best course of action.

"Don't talk to her!" cried Jacques. "She isn't yours – she's mine! Leave this house right now, or I'll call the Police!" he screamed.

"I'm not leaving her with you – I'm not that stupid," spat Wilhelm. "You're filth. She walked out of an abusive life and _you_ knew that, you welcomed her with open arms and all you did was make things worse! How do you even look at yourself in the mirror?" he questioned angrily.

"I got help! I realised that what I had done was wrong and I changed my ways, what do you know about her and I? I love her – you can't take that away," he snapped bitterly, running another hand through his hair and tugging on the lengthy brown mass until it stuck out, making him look even more like a madman. He was glaring at Wilhelm as Ella slowly backed away from Jacques, closer to the French doors.

"Jacques, you're being an idiot! If she wants to leave then let her – you're just being pathetic now," cried Malcolm.

"Shut _up_!" screamed Jacques. "You called her, didn't you? That's why she's leaving again – you told her all sorts of lies about me, convinced her that I'm no good!" he cried.

"Don't you _dare_ yell at Malcolm – I should have listened to him before!" Ella snapped at Jacques. "I put up with your abuse for _two years_ because I loved you too much to leave, I can't believe that I stayed! I can't believe that I didn't just leave you!" she screamed.

"I told you! I've changed! I've changed and I love you – don't leave!" begged Jacques, his voice still filled with anger. "I – I can't live without you, you're everything to me. And now you want to throw that away? You can't just do that to me!" he spat, slamming his hand on the wall. A very obvious dent in the structure appeared, Wilhelm was surprised with the man's power.

"You're being stupid," Wilhelm said, trying to be calm. "Just think rationally about this, you can't make Ella do something she doesn't want to do, no one can," he continued.

"_He_ did! _He_ made her leave; I _know_ that she didn't want to leave me! I _know_ that she still loved me!" he shouted in response, glaring at Malcolm with fire in his eyes.

"Do you think that if Ella really wanted to be with you she would have let me take her away? No matter what she said, I knew that there was a little part of her that _wanted_ to leave you, that was fed up with your bullshit and wanted out!" screamed Malcolm. A red flush rose to Jacques' face, his expression filled with haughtier and pride, one that Wilhelm knew he must have adopted on many occasions before meeting Ella. It was an expression of defence.

"She had just been seriously injured. She didn't know what she wanted," he replied coldly.

"'_Seriously injured_'?" questioned Malcolm sarcastically. "You pushed her down the stairs! You almost killed her – she lost her baby because of you!" he cried. The moment the words had left his mouth his eyes widened, and his jaw slackened. With a fearful expression, he turned to Ella, who was still by the French doors, and had turned pale.

"I told you – she fell!" Jacques practically screamed. "He's lying, Ella, he's lying to push you away from me – he's just doing this to hurt you!" he cried.

"Y – you k – killed our child," Ella managed to get out.

"No! No, I didn't!" Jacques replied, tears falling, desperately trying to convince himself as well as Ella. "I didn't, Elle, I swear to God, if I had known – I wanted that baby more than anything! I would never kill our child, it was an accident, I swear," he continued, one step away from blubbering by that point. Wilhelm felt his stomach fall, his insides twisting. God, he hated Jacques more than he had ever hated anyone, with the possibility of Gerard Wickham, but the man had lost his child, and as much as he tried to deny it, it was his fault, and he knew it.

"I forgave you for not telling me that Jacques still wanted to see me. Hell, I forgave you for separating me from him – but_ what mother – _d_ – _doesn't deserve a chance to grieve for t – their own child?" she questioned shakily of Malcolm, who had adopted a pained expression.

"You had been hurt so much already, I just thought…" he muttered softly.

"H – her name would have been Isabelle," Jacques got out, still crying. "Even though I didn't even know her, Elle, I still loved her, you _have_ to believe me," he continued, weeping like a desperate man.

"I don't doubt that, Jacques," she said, anger rising. "But that doesn't change anything – he or she or whoever they were going to be, they're dead. They're gone forever, they had a whole life and it was taken away from them before they even knew, and _you_ were the one that pushed me down the stairs – _you_ were the one that killed our baby," she cried.

"D – don't say that!" cried Jacques. "God, please don't say that!" he wept.

"I let you hit me, I let you beat me up and I let you make me think that you still loved me; that I was beautiful and special _only _to you, I let you manipulate me and the people that I loved, but I'm through with it!" Ella cried. "I let a – an _amazing_ man just walk away because I thought that maybe, just _maybe_ you really _had_ changed," she continued. "But now I can see it all – you're _never_ going to change," she cried.

"It's Darcy, isn't it?" Jacques burst out. "You wouldn't make love to me when you came back because you still loved him – I can see it! You used to look at me the way you look at him; do you think that I didn't know what was going on that night of the party? I could see it, written all over your face!" he cried. "I just chose not to believe it, I thought that 'maybe they just didn't get along', but I knew it!"

Wilhelm held his breath, waiting for Ella's response. He wanted her to admit that it was all true; he wanted her to run into his arms and say that she loved him, and that she was never going to leave him. He wanted it so badly…

"You can't blame everything on someone else, Jacques!" she snapped. "Darcy let me see that I didn't love you anymore, all you did was lie and hurt me! You made me dependant on you and when that was taken away I thought I would die, you took away my independence! The _one_ thing that made me who I was, you took that away!" she cried. "Taking me to the Riviera the moment we see each other again? Insisting that even though I didn't want to sleep with you, we should still sleep in the same bed? Stealing the fucking ace, just so that I couldn't win at Solitaire? You're sick – you're sick and I'm over all of this – I don't need you anymore!" she cried. "I can make it on my own, I won't let you take anything else away from me, not my independence or the ace or my _child_, I'm leaving, and there's _nothing _you can do to stop me," she practically spat at him.

Malcolm's eyes were shining with pride, and Wilhelm's heart was racing, she was finally, after all of those years, free of him. It was all over. He hoped that she felt half as relieved at he did, because the weight of a thousand pounds had just lifted from his shoulders, he was free too.

"I will _not_ lose you to _him_!" Jacques cried, stepping closer to Ella. She stepped backwards, but there was challenge in her eyes. She wouldn't run. "Everything! Everything that we had, you want to throw it all away because of their lies and _their_ deceit?" he questioned, still stepping closer, the anger rising in his voice to levels that ran shivers down Wilhelm's spine.

"They weren't the ones that lied, Jacques," Ella replied cuttingly, stepping backwards once more. Jacques continued to advance, his face growing redder as his anger rose.

"Stay."

His words were a repeat of what he had earlier said, the tone then startling Wilhelm, but now it made him down right afraid. More afraid than he had ever been in his life.

"Fuck. Off."

Jacques' face twisted into a look of pure fire and venom. He wasn't the kind of man to be challenged, Wilhelm could see this very clearly. The French doors were open, the evening light turning into vibrant shades of gold and rose. Jacques took one more step forwards, his extra height giving him intimidation, but Ella didn't back down. It only took Wilhelm a second to realise what was going to happen, and he immediately rushed to the doors.

"Ella!" he cried with alarm, reaching forwards, stepping over the broken lamp and the abandoned copy of selected poetry by T. S. Eliot, open to part V of his poem the Hollow Men.

But he was too late. It only took a second, but after that second had died, Ella was gone.

_This is the way the world ends,_

_With not a bang, but a whimper_.

**A/N: Sorry to leave you hanging. Go back, read it, listen to James Blunt singing 'Fall at Your Feet' (the acoustic version) and just hope that I get to a computer soon… :D**


	38. It will all change

**A/N: I was very mean in making you wait, but I think I'll be nice now :D**

He didn't hear anything. He didn't see anything. He probably wasn't even conscious. All he could do was stand, and stare at the empty place where Ella had just stood, the curtains fluttering in the late afternoon breeze. An entire marching band could have played in Wilhelm's ears and he wouldn't have heard a thing, God himself could have danced naked before him and he wouldn't acknowledge it.

"You son of a bitch!"

Malcolm's furious cry rang through the room, awakening Wilhelm from his reverie and the dull buzzing noise in the back of his head – his entire world had just been pushed out of the open window. The house was tall, and they were on the second floor.

"You fucking son of a bitch – I'm going to kill you!" screamed Malcolm, lunging at Jacques, who had an expression of complete shock, horror and guilt upon his face. Malcolm pulled him to the ground and started to punch him fiercely, but Jacques didn't even resist. Wilhelm would have gladly shot the man in the head there and then, but his whole body screamed at him that there was another time, and another place for such matters. He turned on his heel and rushed out of the room, downs the stairs, and out the back exit of the house. Ever single step he ran down reminded him of how high the actual building was, how far Ella had fallen…

He ripped the back door open and cast his gaze around the yard in desperation, searching for Ella's figure. She had been wearing a yellow sundress, the same sundress that she had worn when they first re-met in Pemberley. He searched for the flash of yellow, but he couldn't see anything. Grass, flowers, a tree or two, a nice outdoor setting and a large pool, the water still rippling, sunshine reflected off the soft waves.

In a second he had dived into the pool, the water surging around his body, destroying his extremely expensive suit and Italian loafers, his hair swirling over his eyes, which were glued to the dark shape under the water. All he could think about was Ella, Ella, Ella…

His arms gripped around her lithe body, pulling her up to the surface. He needed air, he needed oxygen... He could feel the pressure of the water building up, a familiar weight returning to his chest, his lungs shrinking as he desperately kicked his legs to launch himself upwards.

He exploded to the surface, his lungs filling with precious oxygen. He pulled Ella's head up, and kicked his legs to push them closer to the edge of the pool. He pulled Ella out first, and then he followed. She lay limp, lifeless and very pale by the side of the pool, the water still rippling from its recent disturbance.

Wilhelm rolled her onto her side, into the recovery position.

"Come on, breathe!" he cried, pushing her head back to clear her mouth way. When he took his hand back, it was covered with blood, the water had made it weak, but it was still definitely blood. "No, no, _no_!" he shouted, drops of water running down his cheeks. He didn't know if it was from his wet hair or if they were tears, but he had no time to ponder such things. He knew very little of CPR or of anything to do with resuscitation, but he had to do something.

He rolled her over to her back again, and tilted her head. He took a deep breath, and released it into Ella's mouth, before he began to push heavily on her chest. He pressed down fifteen times, before he took another lungful of air, and breathed into Ella's mouth again.

His arms were exhausted and he had been administering CPR for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, but he continued on. They would have to drag him away to make him stop – he refused to lose her. He would simply _not_ let her die.

More and more tears slid from his eyes, and he heard Malcolm rush down, followed by Jacques (apparently Malcolm hadn't killed him – yet.), but his only focus was on Ella.

The minutes dragged on, and she still wasn't breathing. He didn't bother to wipe the tears away as he counted to fifteen, and then breathed into her mouth. He could swear that he felt a very faint heartbeat, which pushed him onwards.

"Darcy – she's gone," Malcolm said softly, kneeling down beside Ella.

"No!" Wilhelm insisted angrily. "No! She can't die – she _isn't gone_!" he practically screamed.

"D – Darcy, she isn't breathing," Malcolm tried to stress, tears were leaking from his eyes and his voice was weak, full of pain. "She's gone, there's nothing more you can do," he said.

"Don't you _dare_ give up on her!" Wilhelm cried. "Don't you fucking _dare_!" he shouted, before breathing into Ella's mouth. He could taste his own tears, but he kept on going.

"I - if a person goes without air for more than –"

"Don't _die_!" Wilhelm cried, finally giving in. He could no longer even lift his arms, and he collapsed onto Ella's still unmoving frame. His body shook with weeping as he cried into her chest, holding her tightly. He had only ever cried so when he was born, no broken arm, no scraped knee, no tantrum, not even the loss of his parents could endues him to such tears. "Don't die!" he begged commandingly, hoping that he could change everything by sheer will. "I can't do it again! I can't _lose_ you again – I can't wake up everyday knowing that I'll never see you again!" he cried. He was loosing it completely, his body wracked with sobs as he desperately clung on. "I should have saved you! I s – I should h – have s – s – saved y – you," he wept.

There was an awful, horrible silence, filled only with crying from the three men assembled.

And then it came, a spluttering, coughing, and the sound of someone taking a deep breath. Wilhelm raised his head, his eyes meeting with a familiar blue-grey pair, and he broke down.

He pulled her up, towards his chest, holding her tightly and crying into her already damp chocolate curls. He pressed what seemed like a thousand grateful kisses to her face, all the while holding her, his heart soaring at every sound of her breathing in and out, every expansion of her chest against his and every _thump, ka-thump, thump, ka-thump_ of her heart.

Malcolm was laughing gratefully, kneeling on the ground once more as he held Ella's hand in his own, pushing hair from her face and watching her eyes sparkle with their familiar life. Personally, he couldn't believe that he had given up on her, but he sure as hell was glad that Darcy hadn't.

Only Jacques stood back, watching the scene with more pain than he had ever felt. He watched that Darcy man desperately try to return her to life, ignoring tears and Malcolm's interruptions as he fought for her, he watched the heartbreaking scene of him finally giving in, collapsing and begging like a dying man for her to live. He watched him press hundreds of kisses to her face, her neck, her hands; any part of her body he could claim with his lips in grateful salvation. He could practically see the love radiating from the form of Wilhelm Darcy.

He wondered if maybe, just maybe, the tall, intimidating, brooding mass of a man currently weeping and kissing Ella's collarbone had never given up on her at all. Jacques wasn't an idiot. He was clever enough to see the signs; Ella had very strong feelings towards this Darcy, second in magnitude only to Darcy's feelings for her. He knew that they had been through a struggle in their relationship, there was pain in Ella's greeting to him, not just love. He let out a raw sigh.

He hadn't rushed downstairs the moment that Ella had disappeared over the edge, he simply stood, and let Malcolm, the man he had once seen as the destroyer of his relationship with Ella beat him senseless. He hadn't even felt the punches; he didn't know how badly Malcolm had hit him and it never occurred to him to fight back.

But the fact still remained that _he didn't go after her_. He didn't even check over the side of the balcony. Maybe what Malcolm and Darcy and Ella said was true – he didn't deserve her. He deserved nothing.

He pulled his phone out from his pocket, and dialled for emergency services. It only took him a minute to call the ambulance to the address, and then to inform the operator that there was a man there who needed to be charged with attempted murder or grievous bodily harm, whatever, and arrested. He ended the call, and put his phone back in his pocket.

Things were going to change.

Jacques was indeed arrested, but Ella insisted that he not be charged when she discovered that he had called for the ambulance and police. She was weak and tired, and was taken quickly to the hospital, Wilhelm holding her hand the whole time, but she was conscious enough to know that this was Jacques' way of saying sorry, no matter how small or insignificant it may have looked. She also knew that by simply pressing one final kiss to her forehead, he was saying goodbye forever. She had made no choice, he made it for her. Not in an act of superiority or as an order, but because he knew that things couldn't go on like they had before, no matter how much he tried to deny it, she loved someone else, and there was nothing he could to about it.

She had a stitch or two on the back of her head, but the doctor assured them all that there was no serious damage, they would have preferred her to stay for observation, but she insisted that she needed to go home.

"Maybe you should stay here for the night, just so they can keep an eye on you," Darcy had suggested softly when the doctor left her room. He was curled up beside Ella on the hospital bed, it was far too small for his tall frame but he didn't care. He had wrapped his arms around her comfortingly and had refused to let go of her, other than the occasions when she was being tested or when the nurse had to help her get changed from her wet sundress to a hospital gown.

"I hate hospitals," she replied quietly. "Marseille isn't that far away from here, I'll be fine," she added.

"I have a place only a few minutes away from here, there's plenty of room for you and Malcolm, if you really want to I can drive you down to Marseille in a few days, after you've had some rest," he informed her, pulling her a little bit closer to himself.

"I'd like that," she replied softly, with a tiny, grateful smile.

"Mortimer is outside with the car, we can leave as soon as you're discharged," he informed her.

"Where's Malcolm?" she asked curiously, lifting her head slightly.

"He went to get some tea and coffee, but I think he had an ulterior motive," he replied, with a slight smile. "I appreciate his efforts to give us a few minutes, I may actually try and get him Knighted," he added.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I thought I had died," she whispered.

"T – the doctor said that – that it was quite likely you did."

"But you saved me," she stated. "So thank you," she repeated, her French Blue eyes meeting his.

"Thanks for not leaving me," he replied. "Listen, after everything we've been through, after all of this mess with Jacques and with Jayne and Charlie and Gerard, nothing has changed on my side, and I want you to know, that I still –"

"They were out of tea, Ella, but I brought you some cocoa, I thought that might be just as good," interrupted Malcolm as he entered the room. Darcy almost cursed, but instead sat up. He would have to wait to speak to Ella.

"That's quite alright, I feel like cocoa anyway," she replied smilingly. "Umm, I don't want to stay here tonight, and Dar – Wilhelm has offered to let you and I stay at his place for a few days, so I was thinking that maybe I should call my Dad and tell him that I'll be home soon," she explained.

"If he's willing to put up with your annoying tendency to wake up at midnight and howl at the moon I say it's a yes," he replied teasingly, passing a cup of coffee to Darcy and the cocoa to Ella.

"Just as long as I don't have to call you Remus Lupin I'll be fine with it," Darcy commented in response, his tone equally playful. "Ah… I've just revealed that I'm a Harry Potter nerd, aren't I?" he said, squeezing his eyes together as Ella and Malcolm laughed.

"I suppose at a stretch you could be Sirius Black, you look a little like him," Ella replied, tilting her head slightly as she jokingly evaluated his appearance.

"Are you kidding? Forget Harry Potter, he's Tuxedo Mask all the way," Malcolm laughed.

"Isn't he from Sailor Moon? Not a chance – I'm L," Darcy argued, as Ella and Malcolm started to laugh in response.

"Trust you to pick Death Note, that's probably one of the most masculine animes around," he joked.

"I suppose that's just because I'm a masculine guy," shrugged Darcy casually, with a flicker of a grin. He glanced back at Ella, who was smiling softly as she watched the two joke with each other.

Yes, things were going to change. But maybe for the better.

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your lovely reviews, they make my day so much brighter :D**


	39. On Call

**A/N: Sorry that I haven't been updating as much as I normally do, but I just finished my finals this afternoon, so I have heaps of time now :D Most of the rest of this story is veering off the smooth pathway that Jane Austen created (haha I got a bird last weekend it it's called Austen…), but I can assure you, happy endings with fluff and cliché's will certainly appear :D**

**Disclaimer: Nope! Sorry!**

They stayed for three days at Darcy's villa on the Riviera, before Ella decided that it was time she went home. Darcy insisted on driving, instead of making poor Mortimer do all the work, and they took the Rolls Royce down to Marseille, packed with the suitcases Ella hadn't had a chance to take from her place with Jacques, but had been sent over on the second day of her stay at Darcy's villa.

"Is this the right turn off?" Darcy asked, turning his head around to face Ella, who looked up, awoken from her thoughts.

"Yes, you go left here," she replied. Darcy gave her a quick smile and turned back to the wheel.

"How are you holding up?" questioned Malcolm from the passenger seat.

"Brilliantly," Ella answered softly. In truth she was very tired, and still slightly… confused. She and Darcy hadn't had much of a chance to talk after the hospital, and some things needed to be understood. But she supposed that could all come later.

She sat up properly when she started to see the familiar roads of her childhood, trees and houses that she recognised, glimpses of the ocean in the distance, it was her home. She was finally home.

Wilhelm watched her wide eyes take in her surroundings with joy; she seemed to be happier than he had ever seen her. He remembered what Malcolm had told her, she had a very happy childhood. All of the places they were driving past, all of the landmarks and streets, they must be so familiar to her. He was glad that maybe he had given her some joy. Maybe he had made her life just a little bit better.

Malcolm nodded briefly when they approached Ella's childhood home, and Wilhelm started to slow. Ella's eyes were shining brightly; memories were flooding back to her. Endless summers hidden away from the universe, wrapped inside the warm arms of the French coastline. She was home. After all of those years of running she was finally, _finally_ home.

The car had barely stopped before ripped open the door of the Rolls, and flung herself out of the vehicle. Her hair fell from its loose tie, spilling down her spine in soft, chocolate curls. Wilhelm watched with a small, soft smile.

"The trees, Malcolm! Do you remember the trees? Aren't they beautiful?" she cried laughingly, her head held high as she gazed around the place with wonder. Wilhelm had to admit, there was a rustic, untamed and unrestrained feel about the place, but it was stunning. The villa was two stories, small, and quite old. It was cement rendered with a soft rose-tinted cream mix, the roof had dark green tiles that blended into the trees and all of the shutters were white, sheer linin curtains waving softly in the breeze.

The garden was wild, overgrown, completely untamed. Roses grew everywhere, up walls, over the stone steps which were already covered with moss, up trees and completely devouring a particular bird bath, their bright red petals squeezing tightly around the bud. There were cherry blossom trees everywhere, and whatever ground that wasn't covered with roses, stone, moss or trees was covered in a layer of daisies of every colour.

He got out of the car, and put his hands in his pockets, looking around fondly. It was by no means a grand estate, it was more of an oversized cottage than a villa, but the smile of Ella's face made it the most beautiful place in the world.

"And the birds! The birds are still here! They never left!" she laughed, still gazing around, light dancing over her skin.

"She's acting like a child," laughed Wilhelm. "She's behaving like she hasn't seen this place for years," he added, watching her appreciatively.

"She hasn't," Malcolm replied, his eyes glued on Ella. "She hasn't been here since she was fourteen. Now do you get it?" he questioned, glancing over at Wilhelm.

"But I thought –" he began, before he silenced himself. No wonder she had been so restless. It had been almost ten years since she had gone home.

"Her father was been in Berlin for eight years. She would visit him as often as she could, but it's not the same. She never came back, Jacques didn't want her to," he explained tiredly, a soft, content smile on his face. "After all she's been through. She lost her mother, in a sense her father, she was transported to a foreign country into an abusive household, when she finally got away she had her heart broken and it almost killed her – and then you come along," he muttered.

"What did I do?" Wilhelm questioned suddenly, looking back at Malcolm, who had changed the line of his gaze to follow Ella once again as she knelt down by a familiar coy pond.

"You made her better," he replied simply. "God, you made it worse, a million times worse, but somehow, when all of the dust cleared, there she stood again," he practically whispered.

"I can taste the ocean!" Ella declared, standing up, letting her eyes fall to a close. "Papa! Where is my Papa?" she questioned, snapping them open again.

Wilhelm smiled.

He followed her up the winding stone garden path, it was adorned with weeping willows, roses, bluebells and lavender, smelling beautiful and looking just as good. Ella was practically glowing with excitement as she tugged on Wilhelm's jacket sleave, pulling him up to the front door. She pulled an old key from her pocket; it looked like it hadn't been used in years. She held it up to the light, before pushing it in the lock, and turning it. A click sounded, and the pushed the heavy painted-red door open.

"I'm home!" Ella called, grinning broadly as she declared that to the seemingly empty house. Wilhelm and Malcolm entered hesitatingly as Ella gazed around, recalling everything that she had grown up around, running her hands over pieces of furniture and trinkets, her entire childhood flooding back to her.

"Is that my daughter?" came a slightly wheezing voice, in a heavy Southern-French accent.

"_Daddy_!" cried Ella, rushing forwards. "Daddy! I'm home! I'm home, I'm home!" she repeated, tears of joy falling as she clutched her arms around her father.

Wilhelm watched in silence. Mr Bennette looked to be in his early sixties, late fifties perhaps, with pure white hair that could be tied back in a ponytail if he wished. He had a pleasant smile on his face and a wise face, but more than anything he looked old. He looked so very, very _old_. Not in body but in spirit. It killed him to admit it, but Wilhelm knew that the man sitting in a dark wheelchair with his daughter squeezing him lovingly before him was dying. A year, eighteen months at the most. That was all he had left.

"Hmm, who might this be?" the man asked curiously, Ella sitting on her father's lap like a sweet seven year old as he wheeled his chair closer. "I recognise Malcolm very well, you've grown up, young man," he commented, looking to his left. Malcolm nodded deeply.

"It's been too long, Mister Bennette," he said politely, shaking the man's wizened old hand.

"And… who is this?" Mr Bennette asked, turning to Wilhelm. Ella slid off her father's lap and rose to her feet.

"This is Wilhelm Darcy, Papa," she introduced. "He – he saved my life, Daddy, in more ways than one," she added, sending a small, shy smile to Wilhelm, who blushed slightly.

"My name is Jean-Baptiste," Mr Bennette stated simply, wheeling slightly closer, inspecting the man before him with his clear, milky eyes.

"And my name is Wilhelm," he replied, bowing his head slightly, and reaching out to shake the man's hand. His hold was surprisingly firm for one so aged, and in such a dismal state of health, but he supposed that it was a testament to Ella's spirit; she had to get it from somewhere.

"I've heard a great deal about you. Only a little bit of information from my daughter, but I have other sources," Mr Bennette said, with twinkling eyes.

"I've heard some tell of you yourself, I should admit," Wilhelm replied. "Most of it from Ella – she's very fond of you," he added, glancing over to the girl in question.

"Not really. She does like my taste in music, however," he replied laughingly. "Come on then, you two can have a cup of tea with me whilst Ella-Rosé runs around smelling the draperies or whatever she's doing," he continued, starting to wheel his chair over to the kitchen.

Wilhelm followed Jean through the house. All of the windows were very large, and thrown open, the salty-sea air wafting in on the breeze that whispered through ever room. It was almost like heaven. He could see every little imprint of Ella in that house, from the childish paintings on the walls to the dusty old pair of sandals by the door; they looked like they hadn't been touched for a good ten years, able to fit only a child.

"What's she doing now?" Jean asked from ahead of them as he wheeled up to the counter in the modest kitchen.

"Hugging a couch," Malcolm replied, as Jean laughed.

"As long as the couch isn't hugging her back," he replied, reaching for the kettle. Wilhelm looked over the bench; he noticed that they had been renovated to suit Jean in his wheelchair. He filled the kettle and placed it on the old stove, lighting it, before turning around to face Wilhelm directly.

"So. You saved her life," he stated. It wasn't a question, or the beginnings of an argument or lecture, but there was a silent request for more information.

"Ah… I suppose you have to know then," Wilhelm muttered sheepishly. "She – she was pushed off a balcony, she fell in the pool and I resuscitated her," he explained awkwardly, shifting in his position. The man was sitting in a wheelchair and yet he was very, _very_ intimidating.

"She was _pushed_?" questioned Jean, cocking an eyebrow in a familiar Ella-like manner. Wilhelm glanced over at Malcolm, frowning slightly. He was waving his arms out of Jean's view, mouthing something like 'he doesn't glow'.

Wilhelm's eyebrows shot up in surprise when he realised what Malcolm was trying to say – and then he winced. It was too late to go back.

"By… by Jacques," Wilhelm continued with much awkwardness, looking around the kitchen for some sort of distraction. There was a big black clock above the dishwasher with a red rooster on it. There were three blue containers with peeling letters for TEA, COFFEE and SUGAR on them. There was a whiteboard on the fridge, its curled script reading '_clean your room before we leave tomorrow morning, and stop reading under the piano, love Mum'_. He wondered if that message had been on the board for the past ten years.

"Jacques? Didn't Ella date him for a little while?" Jean questioned curiously. "Why did he push her off a balcony?" he asked, turning to Malcolm, who was nervously looking out the window.

"Different Jacques. He didn't push her, she just tripped, but Darcy got a bit defensive about it, he doesn't like Jacques and he's blaming it on him, you see," he explained, not meeting Jean's eyes.

"Hmm. Interesting bit of crap you've just fed me there Malcolm," he commented. Wilhelm would have laughed, were the situation not so decidedly _un_-amusing. "I expect to hear the full story eventually, but perhaps not today," he said, turning back to the bench, and moving the kettle off the stove.

Wilhelm looked back into the front room. Ella was running her fingers along the bookshelves with wonder in her expression, recalling the feel of every object in the house with glee. He turned back to Jean, only to see that the man was looking at him with curiosity.

"Ella, is this Chuckles?" Jean called out suddenly, his eyes not moving from Wilhelm's form.

"Yeah!" Ella replied from her position by the window. Jean chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"Care to explain?" Wilhelm questioned, with great bemusement.

"My daughter read one too many detective novels as a child. She's very fond of code names as a result," Jean replied, opening the cupboard and getting out several mugs. "When she fills me in on her life she'll often use them for people she only knows as acquaintances, or isn't that fond of," he explained. "'Chuckles' was always a bit of an enigma to me, but I suppose you just solved the puzzle," he added, spinning his chair around and heading for the fridge.

"Chuckles. How flattering," muttered Wilhelm under his breath. He had already made a bad impression on the father.

"I have no idea why she gave you the name, however," replied Jean teasingly, getting out the milk. "Come on then Malcolm, move it," he said, wheeling towards another set of draws, where Malcolm was leaning on. He shuffled over sheepishly, as Jean got out some spoons.

"So how did the treatment go?" Malcolm asked, Jean wheeling back to the bench.

"A complete waste of eight years – I don't know why I bothered," he replied. "I should have stayed in Marseille. At least that way I could have kept Ella," he added, pouring the tea. "Instead she had to live with that ridiculous excuse of an Aunt for two years – honestly, that woman is an idiot," he continued.

Wilhelm frowned, and glared at the floor. He was angry with Jean-Baptiste, he _knew_ that sending Ella to her Aunt's home was a bad idea, yet he did it anyway. He understood that the man had just lost his wife and the use of his legs, but he should have been there to look after Ella. He wondered how much input he had in Ella's life, if any at all.

He looked up when he heard Ella race up the stairs, and the bitterness fled his mind. She had suffered, but it had made her stronger, made her the woman she was. His scowl turned to a soft smile.

"Not a chance, I'm afraid," was the statement that interrupted Wilhelm's thoughts. He glanced over at Jean, who was looking at him knowingly. "From what I heard her say of you, it's very doubtful," he added, for clarity.

"She obviously hasn't filled you in on everything, then," Wilhelm replied with obvious haughtier. Yes, Ella had made him softer, she had taken away a great deal of his pride, but she hadn't changed his entire personality completely, his pre-emptive defence mechanism was still there.

"Obviously," Jean replied coolly, not breaking eye contact until a moment longer than was necessary. He then looked away. "Tea, Ella!" he called, glancing over at the hallway. From his low height, he could see the bottom of the staircase.

"Coming!" she called, and the hall filled with the sound of her practically flying down the stairs. "My room is almost _exactly_ the same! It's brilliant!" she cried happily, her face aglow and her eyes twinkling brightly. She was radiating joy.

"I had someone come in and dust things, I hope they did the upstairs," Jean replied, pouring milk and adding sugar to the tea. Ella approached and took the sugar off him, adding it herself.

"It was fine, everything was sparkling," she replied happily.

"I _can_ make tea you know, I'm not quite at that level of incompetency," he informed her, as Ella rolled her eyes.

"Lies. You were always incompetent," she teased cheekily, as Jean nudged her side.

"Horrid child! I should send you up to your room," he replied, with equal twinkle in his eye.

"Please! I loved my old room," she countered, poking her tongue out for effect. Jean only rolled his eyes, and wheeled around, heading to the back door of the kitchen. "Here," Ella said, passing Wilhelm a mug of hot tea with a small smile, before passing another to Malcolm, and then taking hers and her fathers in her hand, and following him out onto the porch.

"Very nice," Wilhelm commented, looking around the backyard with appreciation. It was still just as wild, halfway between the house from _A Good Year_ and _The Secret Garden_, with a decent sized antique looking pool and heavy stone steps leading around the area. There was even a swing hanging from the largest tree in the yard, and a rickety looking tree-house at the top end of a simple ladder a good eight metres from the ground.

"It's home," Ella smiled softly, looking around with a sense of familiarity. Wilhelm kept his eyes on her with wonder and appreciation, before they all took a seat at a nice outdoor setting, a folded newspaper still remaining on the table.

"So Malcolm, I heard that you and my niece have moved in together," Jean commented. Wilhelm looked in surprise at Ella, who nodded, and sipped her tea.

"You heard correctly," Malcolm replied, with a softer expression. He probably adopted that look whenever he was thinking of May, Wilhelm suspected.

"And yet everyone thought you and Ella were to be an item eventually," he added, but Ella only rolled her eyes.

"More lies! Why have I returned to this house of lies?" Ella questioned teasingly, glancing over at Wilhelm, whose expression had turned tense. She was beginning to become familiar with his 'people' face and his 'Ella' face, and could tell that the idea of her and Malcolm becoming an item was one he had already worried over.

"Ella's too much for me to handle, I'm afraid," Malcolm said, arching a playful grin over at his childhood friend. "May requires less maintenance," he added.

_The extra work is worth it,_ Wilhelm thought quietly to himself, sipping his tea in silence.

"Says the lazy man," Jean drawled in response, a sly grin appearing upon his face. He adjusted his seating and then turned his gaze to his daughter – a look of fondness, admiration, and somehow bitterness in his eyes.

"I know that we spoke only last week, but I still feel like I have so much to catch up with you," he commented to Ella, who laughed, and nodded.

"I feel the same," she replied. "But there isn't anything new I can tell you, it's all same old, same old," she explained, but Jean only rolled his eyes.

"You never tell me the full story these days," he informed her pointedly, as she shrugged her lithe shoulders.

"Sorry 'bout that, but I'm a rebellious youth, I have the tendency to do those things," she explained jokingly. "So how are you managing downstairs? It must be annoying," she commented, placing down her mug as her farther shrugged.

"It's fine, the study is down there, so is my room, I don't even need to go upstairs," he replied. "But I have someone come in every now and then and clean it, I like to know that everything is alright up there," he explained.

"And how's that senility thing going for you?" Ella questioned innocently, Malcolm stifling a snigger as Jean frowned.

"Horrid child," he repeated sniffily, with a playful jut of his chin. Ella laughed, her father joining in.

Wilhelm smiled. There was something lacking in her relationship with her father, there was friendship, mutual love and admiration, protectiveness and trust, but it was akin to a friendship, rather than anything more paternal. He was like another Uncle to her, from what he could tell. Jean-Baptiste was a man thrown into fatherhood with the entirely wrong ideals, he made a mistake of actually _liking_ and admiring the spirit of his daughter, which overwhelmed the unconditional love most fathers felt. He loved her, of course, but he was her friend, not her father.

Ella on the other hand had never looked so happy. She was positively beaming, her porcelain skin glowed with vitality and life, he had seen sparks of it in her before, sparks turning to full frontal blazes, but this was continuous, this was _life_ itself burning within her.

"I don't think your father liked me," Wilhelm commented suddenly to Ella, staring at his hands pensively. The two were sitting in the living room as Jean showed off his vintage Jaguar to Malcolm in the garage.

Ella looked up at his comment, her eyes briefly searching his. She was lying on the other couch, staring at the ceiling, remembering each and every crack in the architraves and every watermark on the whitewashed surface.

"He acts like that with everyone he doesn't know that well," she stated in response, turning back to the ceiling with a soft smile. "He reminds me of someone," she added, as Wilhelm rolled his eyes.

"I'm quite serious, he treated me with complete… it was if I was some sort of private joke to him, he was mocking me!" he cried animatedly, Ella stifling laughter. "What?" he questioned, clearly affronted.

"If you open the drawer over there you'll find the world's tiniest violin, it's playing a terribly sad song, just for you," she informed him teasingly.

"Humph. I'm serious, he hates me," Wilhelm snapped moodily. Ella sat up, still grinning at his comment.

"I'll show you around the house a bit, I want to see if Dad destroyed my music room or not," she said, standing up, and pulling him by the sleave of his shirt up the stairs.

"You grew up here?" Wilhelm commented, looking around. He had grown up in a small-scale palace, her father's villa had faded, watermarked, peeling wallpaper, the stairs creaked, the hardwood floors needed new coats of varnish and the ceilings were too lofty, but she still loved it. It was small, it had several inconvenient design faults and it needed renovation desperately, but it was… cosy.

"Yep! Just Papa, Mama and I," she replied happily. Wilhelm's eyes almost widened in shock, he had grown up with his mother, father, sister, and over fifty members of staff spread over several estates.

"I didn't picture it like this," he said thoughtfully, glancing down the hall when they reached the top of the stairs.

"Where did you _think_ I grew up?" she asked curiously, looking up at him as he shrugged.

"I don't know, in a fairly large house with all of your things spread out everywhere, musical instruments in every room, that sort of stuff," he explained, not really knowing the answer himself.

"And books," she added, as he nodded.

"Yes, lot's of… books?" he muttered, looking around. He hadn't noticed it when he came in, but now it was clear. There were bookshelves on almost every vertical surface, and then some stacked in piles on tables or even on the floor, they were everywhere. He had already seen the decently sized library downstairs, but the books were just everywhere. "Did a lot of reading?" he asked, knowing the answer full well. Ella's eyes twinkled laughingly, giving him a wordless response.

"I'll show you my room," she said, leading him through the hall. She paused at the second-last door; it had wooden block letters nailed to the surface, spelling out ELLA-ROSÉ in childlike colours and prints. She pushed the door open, and stepped through.

It was a decently sized room, it seemed to be almost circular in shape, but it was simply an optical illusion. There was a window seat in one corner, the windows thrown wide open with the white lace curtains fluttering softly, the actual seat with a large pink cushion atop it. The entire room was wallpapered in pink and white, with cupcakes, bows and love hearts smiling at each other with cute little faces. There was a large four poster bed with a high mattress and piles of pastel sheets and pillows, the curtains the same white lace that hung over the window. It was very cute and childlike, books were once again absolutely everywhere, there was a little desk in the corner by a large white wardrobe, opposite to a dresser, with a pink sparkly hairbrush sitting innocently atop it. At the end of her bed was a white toybox, several dolls and plushies sitting happily on its surface.

"This is what I had imagined," he said suddenly, looking around. Whilst there were no musical instruments in the room, it was exactly as his mind's eye had pictured.

"I missed it so much," Ella commented, sighing happily and falling backwards on the bed, pillows flying up at the disturbance. Wilhelm followed her to the bed, and sat down on the edge, looking around the room in curiosity. There were more pictures on the walls, some of her own paintings and drawings he supposed, some posters for bands and musicians she liked (much less S-Club 7 than most children, and rather Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Jefferson Aeroplane and Joni Mitchell), and pictures of her and her family. "You're quiet again," she commented, deep within the folds of the bed.

"I'm thinking," he replied, sensing her next question. "Why did you never come back?" he asked, before she could continue.

"I was never allowed when I was living in England, and then when I left for Paris dad was already in Berlin, I didn't want to come home alone," she explained. "And Jacques never really liked my father," she added. Wilhelm's expression hardened slightly.

"Why didn't you go?" he asked suddenly. "Why didn't you just leave him the moment he started to hurt you? You're so strong – why would you let him do that to you?" he questioned, trying to find some answers for the questions that had been nagging him since he had first found out that Jacques had been hurting her.

"I loved Jacques," she answered simply. "It was unconditional, I suppose, and I didn't care, because I loved him," she continued, her head appearing out from under the piles of blankets, blue eyes staring innocently up at Wilhelm. "But now I don't love him," she added earnestly.

Wilhelm looked back at her, his grey eyes meeting hers.

"How long will you stay in Marseille?" he asked her, breaking the silence. Ella shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I suppose I'll go back to London when the record company starts to annoy me, I can't just ignore reality," she explained. Wilhelm sighed softly, and glanced out the window.

"Your father, I – I don't think that he – he might –" he tried to get out, not finding the words.

"Yes, I know," Ella replied. "But I'll be dammed if I let him think that I know. If I'm going to be orphaned by the end of this year, then so bloody be it, but I won't sit around and wait for it to happen," she said firmly. "I'm here for him, _always_, even though he was never there for me after mum passed away, but he wouldn't want me wandering around this house waiting for him to die," she continued.

"You're much braver than I was," Wilhelm commented. "I – we didn't have much time left, after they told us that father was going to pass away, but I never left his side, hoping I could make it better somehow," he explained. Ella nodded softly. "And Mum – god, I would hold on to her as tightly as I could, I didn't want to let her go, but _you,_ you aren't scared of losing him yet, are you?" he questioned, as Ella sighed.

"I don't want to lose him. I really don't, but – I lost my parents a long time ago. That man sitting in a wheelchair downstairs is no longer my father. He gave that up. He's my best friend," she explained quietly.

"I should go soon. My plane is leaving in an hour," he said, before falling back on the bed, lying on his back and staring up at the top of her four-poster bed. Ella adjusted herself and lay down next to him, her head on his chest, and his arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

"I'll miss you," she said quietly, as he held her a little closer.

"We aren't there yet, are we?" he asked softly, still staring upwards.

"Too soon," she whispered. He nodded in silence.

"Tell me when we are. The exact moment, second, minute, tell me, and I'll come running," he promised. Ella smiled softly, and raised her head to meet his eyes.

"It's good to know you'll be on call."

**A/N: So, what did you think? I really love the reviews you've all been giving me, they light up my day :D**


	40. Jayne Bingley?

**A/N: I'm **_**so**_** sorry that I haven't been updating as regularly as I used to, but even though my exams are over things are kind of hectic… And I'm also getting terribly distracted with my non-fanfiction novel as well, I'm up to two hundred pages now! I give you a small piece offering until I have the next chapter out :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. But I wish I owned David Tennant :D**

Jayne sighed as she stared out the window. Her new one bedroom flat was nice, modern and stylish, it had everything she needed and was within her price range, but she missed being surrounded by people she loved, and most of all, she missed Charlie.

She had tried so hard over the past few months to act like it wasn't hurting her, but Charlie just dropping everything and leaving had impacted her more than she wanted to admit. She had loved him with all her heart, and still did, so she could think no wrong of him. She could only assume that there was something then wrong with _her_.

She didn't want to be the glamorous Jayne Gardiner that everyone wanted to take photos of for their magazines, she still wanted to be Jayne Bingley; she wanted Charlie more than anything she had ever wanted.

She felt so guilty for the way that Ella and Jacques had separated, because she could never really understand why it hurt Ella so to be apart from him, when it must have hurt more to be _with_ him, but now she understood. Jayne had to watch Charlie, the man she loved with all her heart walk out of her life, but Ella had to be ripped apart from Jacques' life, even when she still loved him. The pain that Ella felt would have been a thousand times the pain that Jayne was feeling, because Jayne _knew_ that there was never any hope, and that at least one person in the relationship had wanted it to end. But it was like the final episode of series two Doctor Who – when Rose and the Doctor were torn apart from each other by parallel universes, but knowing that the one they loved was out there, living their life without them.

Jayne sniffed, and wiped stray tears from her eyes. She had barely left her new apartment, all she had been doing was watching old episodes of TV series that Ella had lent her – she had become hooked on Doctor Who for the sheer soppiness of the romance between The Doctor and Rose. She was that desperate that she would watch _Science Fiction_ to make her feel a bit better. She laughed bitterly at herself, her eyes watery as she watched the rains slide down the window panes, a stormy day raging outside.

If she had known the way it felt to have your life suddenly ripped apart, Jayne knew that she would _never_ have had a part in pulling Ella away from Jacques. She wouldn't cause that sort of pain willingly.

Jayne rubbed her shoulders, trying to comfort herself in the way that her father used to, when he was at home, that is. At least Ella had gone back to Jacques, disregarding everything that had happened she went back to him. Jayne only wished that she could do the same.

She slid off the window seat and headed over to the kitchen, boiling the kettle. She glanced at her mobile; there were no new messages from Ella. She had been so worried, but it was expected. When Jayne thought of the way that her young cousin must have been feeling, she wouldn't call anyone either.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She must have looked a mess. She was wearing only a pair of tracksuit pants and a baggy old sweater, her hair tied back in a simple bun, no makeup on her face. She glanced at the TV. Perhaps she could watch a few episodes of Doctor Who again, just to take her mind off things.

A knock at the door stopped her movements. She assumed it was probably Lye, who had been turning up at all hours trying to start a conversation that she would eventually turn into a bragging session about how she had scored Gee Wickham, whilst Ella had not.

"Lye, I'm not in the mood for –" she stopped dead when she pulled open the door. It certainly wasn't Lye standing there.

"H – hi Jayne," stammered Charlie nervously. He was completely drenched, his ginger hair curling at the ends and pasting on his face, water dripping from his completely soaked business suit. He had never looked more beautiful to her.

"C – Charlie," she replied, her eyes widening. All she could think was '_what is he doing here_?'.

"It's raining out," he managed to get out conversationally, his eyes darting to everything but her.

"I – I noticed," Jayne responded, stepping back. "Umm, I was just making tea, would you like some?" she questioned awkwardly, trying to be polite. "I should get you a towel or something," she added nervously, glancing at his drenched appearance.

"A towel and tea would be lovely," Charlie replied gratefully, his smile widening. "So… this is your new place then," he stated, as Jayne led him into the apartment.

"Yes, it's a bit cosy but… I like it," she shrugged, opening the linen closet and pulling out a peach coloured towel and handing it to him. He smiled in gratitude and ran it over his hair as Jayne edged to the kitchen, cluttering about as she made tea.

She tried not to read into anything. He was probably in town, and wanted to make sure she hadn't taken anything of his from the apartment. She made the tea as quickly as she could, listening to him drying off in the lounge room.

"Milk, three sugars," she said with a nervous smile, passing him a mug.

"Just how I always took it," he grinned, accepting the cup from her, and sipping the contents eagerly. "You always made the best tea," he added, the hot liquid filling him up warmly.

"Thanks," she muttered, sipping her own cup. She felt so awkward all of a sudden. They headed over to the couch, sitting in silence as they drunk their tea.

It was about ten minutes later when the silence was broken by Charlie placing his mug on the coffee table, and taking Jayne's from her hands.

"I wanted to come here to… apologise, I know that it doesn't make up for what I did," he began nervously, taking her hands tightly in his, and shifting to face her on the couch. "But it wasn't what I wanted. I should never have believed them, but everyone was telling me that you didn't love me, a – and I could hardly believe that you wanted to be with _me_ when you're so – so beautiful, so I guess that it – I guess that it just got to me," he tried to explain, his eyes seeking hers with pleading expression as Jayne listened with trepidation. "I can't ask you to take me back after all I did to you, I don't deserve that," he continued, Jayne biting her lip to stop herself from crying, but it didn't matter, because the man sitting next to her was crying too. "I just – I just want a – something, _anything_, I don't deserve a second chance but – but you make me a better _person_," he said earnestly, trying to control the emotion in his voice.

"Charlie…" Jayne whispered softly, feeling hot tears leak down her cheeks.

"I don't want you to hate me, but I know it's what I deserve," he continued, one step away from blubbering. "I was an idiot. I doubted you, and I never – I never should have but – but I _can't_ let you walk away with – without knowing that e – even though I s – screwed up, oh God I screwed up so badly, I – I love you, and I – I always did," he managed to get out, before raising a hand to wipe tears from his reddening face. "I didn't want to lose you, I never wanted to lose you," he said with honesty and raw emotion.

"You haven't lost me," Jayne said softly. Charlie's eyes searched hers momentarily, trying to understand. "I still love you too, and I don't want to lose you either," she said, smiling through tears, feeling more terrified and more alive than she had ever felt before. "You don't deserve a second chance. You don't deserve anything from me, but I – I'm going to give you one," she told him, watching his expression change to one of hope.

"You mean you'll… take me back?" he questioned incredulously. Jayne nodded her head, not knowing if she was laughing or crying by that point. "And will you move back in with me?" he asked, as she continued to nod, still crying but definitely laughing. She had never felt happier in her entire life. "And will you marry me?" he questioned, his hope rising and his heart soaring.

"Yes," Jayne said, beaming and laughing and crying all at once. "Yes, a thousands times, _yes_," she wept. Charlie's hands moved to cup her cheeks, one thumb wiping a tear sliding down her cheek.

"I love you," he said softly, with more honestly and emotion and truth than he had ever possessed.

"I love you too," Jayne replied, leaning forwards, and kissing him.

She had missed him so much.

**A/N: Yeah, so I know this story is primarily about Ella and Darcy, but I was just so sad about Jayne not getting her happy ending yet that I **_**had**_** to do something to make her feel better :D**


	41. Doubt sets in

**A/N: I am **_**so**_** sorry that I haven't updated sooner, but I've been at camp, and there's no internet there, only tents and sleeping bags. And I've been **_**so**_** tired, we went on a three hour hike, a two and a half hour canoe trip upstream, another hike up a mountainside to get into a dark, scary cave that really freaked the hell out of me, and now all my muscles are killing me and I slept **_**all**_** day, but I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as I could. Not too much longer to go now :D**

**Disclaimer: There's a line in here from the original Pride and Prejudice and then a line from the recent Shakespeare retold movie 'Taming the Shrew', so obviously I don't own them. Lol. Wish I did.**

Things were very different for Ella when she returned to London. She had stayed with her father until the end of the summer, when Autumn was settling in. She left only after her father had practically ordered her to go back and see her friends and family, but as she stepped into the London airport, she knew that it was for the best. She _had_ missed London terribly.

She hadn't known what she had been expecting, but a warm reception was certainly not it. She had called Jayne the day that she was preparing to leave and told her when she would be flying in, and returned to a not-so-empty house. Everyone from Kipling, The In Section, Jayne and Lye and her two Aunts and Uncles and their children were all assembled in her living room, with hearty smiles and warm welcomes.

She felt safe in all of their hugs and kisses and warm wishes, but something was definitely missing. She pushed all negative thought from her mind; it would not do to be sad when she had just gotten back. She was relieved to see everyone, and they were relieved to see her. Denny was ecstatic, Malcolm was apologetic, May was twice as gorgeous as she was when Ella left and even Jayne seemed a million times happier, the reason why pulling Ella into a crushing hug the moment he stepped into view.

Jayne could give no in-depth explanations whilst everyone else tried to pull Ella to the side to ask her a million questions, but her eyes promised that there would be a good girly-session when the crowd had dispersed.

"I missed you heaps! How come you never called?" May cried, hugging her cousin tightly. Ella, struggling to breathe, pulled away.

"I missed you too! I would have called, but I didn't know what to say," she explained, before pulling _May_ into a hug.

"How about I'm alive? I'm safe?" May suggested, her voice filled with desperation and slight anger. Ella laughed, and continued to hug May.

"Maybe I should have just texted you then," she laughed.

Before long she was pulled to the side by Malcolm. They had never addressed the issue, but things had been forgiven. Everyone in the room could tell when Malcolm pulled her up into his arms and attempted the squeeze the life right out of her. He had felt guilty leaving Ella alone in Marseille so soon after she had been hospitalised, but he did it, only after Ella's insistence.

"Never do this to us again," he whispered in her ear as he spun her around in his arms, still hugging tightly.

"I'm never going to have the opportunity. You guys are going to be watching me 24/7, aren't you?" she replied cheekily the moment she was released back on the ground. Malcolm laughed and smiled with relief.

"Just… be careful, Elle," he requested, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and squeezing her hand.

"Always, Malcolm," she replied, with a twinkle in her eye.

It wasn't until later that night that she got to talk to Jayne. Charlie didn't understand that things had not been explained to Ella, as he still assumed that she and Jayne had been in contact, so it was difficult to separate him from his newly-reunited fiancée. But finally, Charlie muttered to Jayne that he needed to use the bathroom for a minute, and the two were allowed some peace for a few minutes.

"He's like a little puppy," laughed Ella as practically skipped upstairs. They headed into the front room to chat, as everyone was assembled on the back porch where they were having a barbeque in celebration of Ella's return, but it was more of an excuse for a family dinner, a good opportunity to drink as much alcohol as was provided.

"Just as long as he's my puppy," sighed Jayne, a soft smile overpowering her features. "He was practically on his hands and knees," she added, her smile widening. "Oh Elle, I'm just so – so happy! I hated being apart from him, but he's apologised for everything and he's so very sorry, if I didn't take him back I would just die," she laughed joyfully.

Ella smiled as she watched her cousin's soft smiles turn into grins from the comfort of her armchair.

"I'm glad that he did come back," Ella replied, leaning over the couch and squeezing Jayne's hand. "And I'm glad you're happy," she added.

"Oh Ella, I'm so sorry, there I was going on about Charlie at a time like this!" Jayne exclaimed. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to be…" she continued, before Ella started to laugh.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, trying not to chuckle.

"Well… you went back to Jacques, didn't you?" she tried to explain, her voice filled with nervousness and her facial expression tense under the decidedly artificial lounge room lights.

"I did," Ella admitted, without releasing any emotions of disappointment or bitterness.

"But you two loved each other, so I can only assume that…" Jayne trailed off, trying not to sound insensitive.

"You assumed that because Jacques always had a problem with me being so much younger than him, he finally decided to give me the flick," she supplied. Jayne bit her lip, and nodded softly, as Ella gave a short, soft laugh. "It was sort of a mutual decision. Or rather, he didn't want it to end but he knew that it should, so… it's over," she explained.

"Ella, that's wonderful," she exclaimed, this time she leaning over the couch and hugging her cousin tightly. "God, I'm so happy! I have Charlie back and Jacques is finally out of the picture, things are so much better for us now!" she cried happily.

Ella forced a smile.

'_I'm better near to you_…'

She wondered what he was doing at that very moment, miles away from her. She had heard nothing from him. She knew perfectly well that he didn't want to enter a relationship until _she _was ready for one, but did that mean that they had cut out _all_ communication?

_Maybe_, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind, _he doesn't want to talk to you_. _He's a man of extreme importance, you're nine years his junior, you aren't even English, your Aunt and cousin are mentally inept socialites, the latter having starred in a porn movie and been arrested for possession of heroin._ Ella stared at the carpet beneath her feet. She had never felt so… insignificant in her entire life. She didn't care who was she was, she liked being Ella Bennette and Canterbury Zimmerman at the same time, but she wasn't an idiot. He hadn't called.

She didn't say much over dinner, she mainly listened to her family members go on about what had happened over the past few months. But she still couldn't help but run over things in her mind. Why had Charlie come back? He had ignored Jayne when she was in California, so why had he come back to her on his hands and knees? She knew that Darcy and Caroline were responsible for his leaving Jayne in the first place (something she hadn't informed Jayne on, she hadn't found the necessary courage or timing to do so), but why had he suddenly decided to disregard their opinions?

"Pass the bread, Ella," came Lye's nagging voice from beside her.

"Oh, sorry," muttered Ella, and passed the basket of rolls to her cousin.

"Off in dream land again?" Lye questioned sarcastically, with no small amount of mocking in her tones. "So what was up with you and that Jack dude anyway? Couldn't hold him down long enough for him to say the vows?" she asked rudely, biting into one of the rolls.

"Sure, Lye, that's exactly what happened," Ella said sarcastically. "But you're in no position to talk – you didn't marry Gee, did you," she snapped, but Lye only shrugged and flipped back her blonde hair.

"I was going to," she replied. "He asked me and everything, we were going to get married in California, Gee knew people there," she continued. "And that's why I waved to Darcy, I mean, he and Gee went way back, I figured he was going to be the best man or something, I didn't see the cops that he brought with him," she explained.

"What?" exclaimed Ella, her fork falling onto her plate with a clatter. "_Darcy_ was the one who found you?" she questioned incredulously, her eyes wide.

"Oh shoot! I wasn't supposed to tell you!" she cried, clamping her hands onto her lips and giggling. "Oops! Too late now I suppose," she continued, still laughing.

"Lye – you had better tell me what happened," she said forcefully, as Lye rolled her eyes.

"Well Darcy was the one that got me out of prison! He paid for everything, and he got one of his lawyers to defend me, he was _really_ good, the best in the country," she explained, curling her hair around one finger as if she were discussing the weather or Top Shop's newest Spring fashions.

"He hired you a _lawyer_? I suppose he paid for the bail and the fines too then!" Ella cried quietly, a million things suddenly spinning around in her mind.

"Yeah, must have cost him _heaps_ though," she said thoughtfully. "But he was the one in charge of the lawyer dude anyway, I thought you knew that his company was a law firm," she commented, as Ella's eyes widened once more.

"Are you being serious?" she questioned incredulously. "I thought it had something to do with shipping or cargo or trade," she muttered, slamming her head into her open palm.

"Yeah, well at first I thought that _he_ was going to be my lawyer, he has a licence and everything, but he said that if he _was_ then you would find out, and he specifically asked me _not_ to tell you, but I guess I screwed that up," she continued thoughtfully.

"I can't believe he did that…" whispered Ella softly, staring at her plate but seeing nothing. Pieces of a puzzle were all suddenly fitting together, and it was making her eyes sting and her head pound. She had treated him abominably, when all he wanted was her… he had saved her life, the life and reputation of her cousin, she suspected he had done a great deal for Jayne and Charlie, and all she had done to him was run into the arms of another man when he had done so much for her and her family. She couldn't believe how selfish she had been.

"Jeez Ella, I know you think that he's a bitch and all of that, but he isn't really bad, he's not _half_ as high and mighty as you sometimes!" she exclaimed, reaching over Ella's plate for her wine, and smirking with the knowledge that _she_ was right over Ella for once.

Several miles away, a man sat behind his desk in a plush penthouse office, surrounded by luxury and yet feeling emotionally bankrupt at the same time.

_She hasn't called you_.

She will though, she just needs time to clear her head.

_She doesn't need you around; she's back to her old independent self again_.

She needs me. I know she does.

_Has she shown it to you? She's used to doing things by herself, she's free, and she likes it that way_.

How would you know? She feels something, I know she does.

_Has she shown you that she does? She always denies you, no matter what situation_.

That isn't true – she let me kiss her when we were at Pemberley, and she let me lay on her bed with her in France!

_Then why hasn't she called?_

Wilhelm sighed deeply, and let his hands run through his lengthy dark hair as his head slid onto the top of the desk.

"I thought I heard a thud," came an amused voice from the doorway. Wilhelm raised his head – it was Chris, staring at him with a grin on his face.

"If you had any sort of consideration for my emotional health you would disappear into a cloud of smoke up your own backside," Wilhelm replied tiredly, screwing his eyes closed as he tried to imagine that he was somewhere else.

"Lucky I don't then, because that could be rather uncomfortable," Chris replied casually, strolling over to Wilhelm's desk with his hands in his pockets.

"I would hope so."

Chris sent Wilhelm a glance, halfway between annoyed and amused as he sat down on the edge of the desk, and crossed one leg over the other.

"You're going to tell me anyway, so you might as well just spit it out now," he suggested casually, casually spinning a lavish globe that sat at the end on the corner of the desk.

"Tell you what, might I ask?" questioned Wilhelm in return, closing a file and picking up another, a draft of the new contracts that he needed to approve.

"What's had you in this state for the past couple on months, that's what," Chris replied cheerfully. "So, do I have to call your sister and ask her, or are you going to make both of our lives easier and just tell me now?" he continued, as Wilhelm scowled.

"It has nothing to do with you," he replied pointedly, turning the page with decided anger, so much so that he almost ripped the paper.

"Of course it doesn't," Chris agreed. "But that doesn't mean that I can't find out, I have to put up with you moaning and groaning all of the time, I'd like to know why," he reminded him.

"It's a terribly long story, and I haven't the time to relate it to you completely, suffice to say that somehow I screwed up again, and I don't even know how," he said simply, as Chris gave a short laugh.

"So it's about a girl then," he replied. Wilhelm raised his head and sent his assistant a scowl, but Chris only laughed. "Thought so. So why haven't you swept her off her feet yet, and why haven't I had to cover for you when you lock yourself up with her here doing the dirty on your desk?" he questioned, as Wilhelm rolled his eyes, and decidedly turned another page.

"She isn't that kind of girl," he replied pointedly.

"What do you mean? That she's not the kind of girl you can shag on top of your desk?" he questioned curiously, with a small amount of astonishment.

"She's not the kind of girl that can easily be swept off her feet, she's twice as clever as I am and doesn't miss a trick," he snapped. "And besides – I've treated her terribly, I don't deserve her," he added miserably.

"What did you _do_?" asked Chris inquisitively, as Wilhelm sighed.

"I insulted her when I only knew her for ten minutes, I separated her best friend from her fiancée for no reason at all, I didn't stop someone I _knew_ was dangerous from hurting her, I insulted her family, her status, her personality, her young age, everything she believed in and then had the audacity to ask her to marry me, and then I let her walk back into an abusive relationship that had almost killed her three years ago," he recited. "I've don't some other terrible things to her as well, but I don't want to continue, I feel too bad already," he added, as Chris gave a low whistle.

"Sounds like you've gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle there, captain," he said casually. "Any plans on how to get out of it?" he questioned.

"No idea," muttered Wilhelm, resting his head in his hands. "And she even had the decency to be polite to me when I left, but she made it perfectly clear that she would _not_ be getting into contact with me," he sighed miserably. "I should have seen the signs. She hates me, she just didn't want to say it directly to my face, she was much more decent than I ever was," he mumbled, glancing out the window. He could see the café she sometimes visited below on the London street; but he couldn't see _her_.

"I wish I could say something supportive right about now, but there isn't much I can do… I don't get women, no man does, I'm afraid," Chris said meekly. "Sorry 'bout that," he added.

"That's quite alright, I wasn't expecting anything," Wilhelm sighed, standing up. "I'm going home, I think. There's no point in me sitting around not doing anything, I can't concentrate," he said, taking a few files to look at, and sliding on his jacket. "I appreciate you lending your ears for a moment anyway, but there isn't much anyone can do. There are more men than there are women in this city, some of us are going to have to go without," he added, before leaving his office.

Chris glanced after him with concern, before he shook it off. The day that anyone worried about Darcy's mental health was the day that the entire world would come to an end.

**A/N: I would just like to say now that I am **_**so**_** grateful for everyone who has been reviewing this story, and to everyone that's been reading it, it means heaps to me :D I want to take a small break after this story so I can work on my next one and my non-fanfiction novel, but I may post a few one-shots and some more stories of a similar nature to 'Epic Mind Failure' and 'I Really Hope this Works', since they went down so well. But I still don't know which story I should continue with next, so I need you to tell me which one I should consider. So I'd like it if you could check out the poll that should be on my profile page and tell me which one you think I should work with, I would really appreciate it. Thank you so much! :D**


	42. i carry your heart

A/N: PLEASE go to my page and vote… I have summaries for stories, please read them and vote on which one you want me to start to post when I'm finished this, or else you'll have to wait for ages so that I can decide myself, and I'm not that good at decisions…

**Disclaimer: ee cummings – i carry your heart with me**

Ella's mind was racing into overdrive as she paced in the lounge room of her house, Michelangelo staring curiously up at her.

"_We aren't there yet, are we?" he asked softly, still staring upwards._

"_Too soon," she whispered. He nodded in silence._

"_Tell me when we are. The exact moment, second, minute, tell me, and I'll come running," he promised. Ella smiled softly, and raised her head to meet his eyes. _

"_It's good to know you'll be on call."_

Everything he had done for her, he had done because he only wanted her to be happy and safe. _Yes_, he was proud and arrogant and a bit of a prick, but he had a heart of gold. How long had it taken for her to see that?

She slammed her hand against her forehead angrily, trying to clear her mind. He had done so much, and all he wanted in return was her affection. But did she _love_ him, or was she just grateful to him for all he had done? Why were things so confusing?

She kicked a green bean bag angrily as she stormed up and down the room. Michelangelo whimpered slightly, his little black eyes following her as she paced; running hands through her hair and trying desperately to _think_.

The knock at the door almost made her jump a million miles into the air, it startled her so much. She stared at the closed door for a moment, not sure of who it could be at that time of night. Cautiously, she headed over to the door, a frown on her face. She opened it slowly, trying to recall her karate lessons from when she was a child.

"Good evening Miss Bennette," came a cool, cold voice from the doorway. _That_ frightened Ella more than the knock at the door did, and she immediately blanched.

"Lady Catherine? Umm… what are you doing here?" she questioned in complete shock as the majestic woman peered down at her from behind her extremely expensive glasses, clutching her Birkin purse in one hand, and the other clenched into a fist. Ella took an immediate step back, but Lady Catherine took it as an invitation, and stepped through the doorway.

"Your house is surprisingly simple for someone who claims to be a celebrity," she commented, glancing around the room with an expression of distaste on her features.

"Err… would you like some tea, or something?" Ella questioned, still in great confusion as she closed the front door.

"No, I don't intend to stay here for that long," Lady Catherine replied, turning around to face Ella with a menacing glare. "I will get what I want and leave, and we will never discuss this meeting again. Am I perfectly clear?" she questioned, sending a fiery glare to Ella.

"Well that depends entirely on what you've come here for," Ella replied, trying to keep her tone cool, detached and casual. She wanted to make it perfectly clear that she was _not_ intimidated.

"I've come here for reassurance on a matter that is most concerning," she began, her voice strong and commanding.

"Well then, I suppose you could pull up a bean bag and give me a brief overview, careful though, my dog bites," she said, well aware that it was going to offend the woman. She was slightly impressed to note that whilst Lady Catherine flinched, she did not waver in her firm gaze.

"Your sense of humour needs work, Miss Bennette," she replied, as Ella frowned slightly, and held her head high.

"What do you want me to reassure you on, _Lady Catherine_?" she questioned, ignoring the last remark made through clenched teeth as she folded her arms against her chest, Michelangelo giving another whimper as he sat at Ella's feet, burying his head in her shoe laces.

"A very alarming report has reached my attention, and whilst normally I wouldn't take any notice of it, I know you. I know that you're a very clever, conniving young girl with much more determination than what I originally gave you credit for," she began. "I know it's not possible, but I don't doubt that you will use all of your efforts to try and _make_ it possible, and I want to save you the embarrassment now," she continued.

"You do flatter me, Lady Catherine," Ella said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Please, _do_ tell me what has concerned you so much," she continued, trying to be as mocking as possible. She wanted the woman out of her house as soon as she could possibly manage it, manners be damned.

"Your little friend Charlotte Lucas-Collins let it slip to her husband that there is something going on between you and my nephew, Wilhelm Darcy, and that you two are to be married," she stated grandly.

Ella blinked.

And she blinked again.

Michelangelo blinked.

Ella's eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened.

"I came here to hear you tell me that it's not true, because I know it's not, and can never _be_ true," she continued, her eyes never leaving Ella's form.

"That's interesting, why did you even bother if you know it's not true?" questioned Ella, inspecting her nails casually.

"To hear my knowledge confirmed!" she replied angrily, her tone suggesting that she was getting impatient.

"One would assume that you're coming here would be a confirmation of the rumour, if one even _exists_," she retorted pointedly.

"Exists? You know very well that it exists – you started it yourself!" cried Lady Catherine angrily, a red flush rising to her face.

"No, I didn't, for your information," Ella replied. "I don't know how you were told this, but I would assume that it was made up by you or exaggerated to the extreme by your personal assistant, he has that sort of tendency," she added, her voice still calm and controlled.

"How _dare_ you! How dare you even _pretend_ that you don't know what I'm talking about?" questioned Lady Catherine furiously, looking as if she was about to throw her purse at Ella with a great deal of force.

"Because I really _don't_ know what you're talking about, this is the first I've heard of it," Ella replied honestly. Her mind was going into overdrive once more, but it certainly wasn't helping anything.

"My nephew is going to be married to my daughter Anne! So you two can't _possibly_ be engaged!" she practically screamed.

"Isn't that incest? Wow, I hope you want grand children with twelve toes, because that's what you're going to get," Ella replied, trying not to grin. She wasn't intimidated by Lady Catherine's presence, and she wanted that to be made perfectly clear.

"Don't be an idiot, she's my adopted daughter, I took her into foster care and made her my protégée," she snapped in retort. "This merger between the two has been planned since Anne passed into my care! It was the dearest wish of his parents to see the two united!" she continued.

"And the fact that neither of them want to get married has nothing to do with it all?" Ella questioned innocently. Lady Catherine turned red, and then white very quickly.

"How _dare_ you!" she cried.

"If what you're saying is true then you really needn't have bothered, I doubt your nephew is stupid enough to get engaged to two women," she commented.

"Just _tell_ me, are you engaged to my nephew, yes or no!" cried Lady Catherine, who was _definitely_ getting impatient.

"I'm not obligated to tell you anything," Ella replied pointedly.

"Just _tell_ me!"

"Fine then, _no_, I'm not!" she snapped finally. A relieved look passed onto Lady Catherine's face, and she smiled coolly, having gotten what she wanted.

"There's a good girl. You can go far in life, you know, you're insolent and outspoken and your have horrible manners, but you're clever," she said, as Ella resisted the urge to spit at her. She felt dirty for giving the woman what she wanted, but she had to get her off her back. "And can you to promise me that you will _never_ get engaged to him, and I think it's best that you leave England, my nephew is weak, and I don't want him to ruin his reputation with you," she continued, her tone smug.

"I _cannot_ promise that to you and I certainly _will_ not!" Ella threw out, her voice firm and unwavering, filled with venom. "You've insulted me and everything I stand for more than you can possibly comprehend – and as I'm quite sure that's all you're capable of doing I'm going to have to ask you to leave, you've said your piece and I want you out of my house!" she continued angrily.

"You stupid girl! Do you have _any_ idea who I am? I could ruin you!" she cried in retort, taking a step forwards. "I know all about that sordid affair your cousin had, and I know about your relationship with that _artist_, you little slut!" she spat. "You could _never_ be good enough for my nephew, you're _nothing_, do you hear? _Nothing_! I could ruin your entire life, do you want that to be your fate?" she questioned.

"I don't think you fully understand who you're trying to intimidate, Lady Catherine," Ella said gravely, her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. "I fear no fate that you could inflict upon me. I could annihilate you. I've been pushed around my whole life and I've learnt a few things along the way, and I will _NOT_ let you come into _my_ home and abuse me!" she cried. "Your nephew isn't weak, and neither is your 'daughter', you poison the people around you, it worked on Collins and your husband, from what I've heard of him – but it will _not_ work on Darcy, Anne or I!" she continued vehemently.

"You're making a _grave_ error, Miss Bennette," Lady Catherine said pointedly, but there was a flicker of fear in her eyes for just a second, but enough for Ella to use.

"Get _out_," she spat finally. "I'm not kidding. I could destroy you. A few well chosen words to the press and you would be ancient history. Who do you think they like more? Me or you? I give them music – you give nothing but lies, deceit, a couple of _really_ ugly phones, and a bad headache," she said coolly.

Lady Catherine gave one final '_huff_' before she stalked past Ella to the front door, pulled it open, and then slammed it shut; all that was left of her was a cloud of Chanel No5 and a bad taste in the back of Ella's throat.

She rationed her breathing, and fell to her knees.

The woman was right. Darcy had a whole life in front of him, and all she had was a couple of CDs and a false name.

She had never wanted to cry over another man again – but this time she couldn't help the tears.

"That insolent, stupid child! How _dare_ she!"

Wilhelm sighed, and sat down on the armchair by the empty fireplace. His Aunt had been pacing and screaming for the past ten minutes after she stormed into his house, completely unannounced as per usual, waking him up only so he could watch her scream about something that he had no idea about.

"Aunt, what on _earth_ are you talking about?" Wilhelm questioned finally, running a tired hand through his messy dark hair.

"That _girl_! Who does she think she is?" she questioned, glaring at him with ferocity.

"What girl are you talking about?" Wilhelm asked, fighting back a yawn.

"Miss Ella-Rosé Bennette, that is whom! The little snake!" she cried.

Wilhelm sat up immediately, his eyes widening and all sleepiness forgotten.

"Oh my God… what did you do?" he questioned fearfully.

"What did _I _do? _SHE_ was the one who wouldn't do what she was told!" cried his Aunt angrily.

"Aunt, _what_ did you do?" he asked clearly, his tone filled with urgency.

"I paid her a visit," she said haughtily. "What's it to you?" she questioned in response as Wilhelm rubbed his temples, trying to calm himself down.

"Just tell me what you said to her!" he cried, standing.

"I heard a pathetic rumour that you two – try not to laugh – were to be married," she said, awaiting his reaction.

"Nothing is set in stone, but that's the eventual hope," Wilhelm replied, relishing the expression on his Aunt's face.

"A – are you serious?" she questioned in complete shock.

"As serious as I have ever been, Aunt," he replied.

"But – but she's _nothing_!" she cried desperately.

"She's everything. To me at least, she is," he informed her. "Now tell me what you said," he ordered sharply, as his Aunt jutted her chin forwards.

"I asked her to tell me that it wasn't true, and she admitted that it wasn't," she told him, as his heart fell. "And then I asked her to promise that she never _would_ enter an engagement with you, and do you know what she said?"

"Let me guess, she submitted to your wishes?" Wilhelm asked, almost miserably. For all intensive purposes, his life was over.

"No! She told me that she would _not_ promise me that!" she cried. Wilhelm raised his head suddenly.

"What?" he asked, desperately hoping he had really heard what he though he had heard.

"She refused to promise me such," his Aunt admitted bitterly. "And I made it perfectly clear to her that I could ruin her entire life, and do you know what she said?" she asked.

"No I don't, stop playing games and tell me!" insisted Wilhelm hurriedly. His mind was spinning faster than it had ever gone before, and right in the middle of all of his racing thoughts was a tiny flicker of hope that he thought had disappeared.

"She said 'I fear no fate that' – Wilhelm, are you quite alright?" she asked curiously, with slight amounts of concern. He had gone white and completely silent, and his eyes glazed over.

"W – what?" he asked, trying to steady his wavering voice.

"She said 'I fear no fate that you could inflict upon me', and then she had the audacity to tell me that I _poison_ the people around me, the nerve of that girl!" she cried.

"I fear no _FATE_!" cried Wilhelm suddenly, jumping up, and running a hand through his hair, pulling at it, making him look quite deranged. "All this time I was looking for the wrong thing! I'm so _stupid_!" he cried angrily, as he began walking up and down.

"What on earth are you talking about?" she questioned in shock.

"I knew what it was all this time – it was her favourite poem!" he cried, probably not even aware that his Aunt was standing there.

"Whose favourite poem? Miss Bennette's?" she asked, but Wilhelm only waved her off.

"No, mother's. I should have realised! God, it all makes sense now!" he laughed. "I _love_ that woman! God, she's a million times cleverer than anyone I've ever met!" he cried, the grin on his face widening. "This was all a game! Ha – I finally found the last bit of the puzzle!" he cried. "She saw it! She saw it when she was here! That's why she picked it – she knew that I would know it, but she didn't say it directly! God, I feel so stupid now!" he continued.

"What on _earth_ are you going on about, Wilhelm? Are you quite alright?" Lady Catherine asked unsurely.

"_That_!" he cried, pointing to the wall.

Above the mantle piece was a large embroidery hanging that had been done by his mother in a brilliant array of coloured threads, it was her favourite poem, and he always kept it in whichever house he was staying in, it helped him feel close to her, and remember how much his parents loved each other.

"The poem?" she questioned doubtfully, narrowing her eyes and reading the curled script.

'_I carry your heart with me_

_I carry it in my heart_

_I am _

_never _

_without it_

_Any where I go, you go my dear,_

_And whatever is done by only me _

_is your doing,_

_My darling_

_I fear no fate, _

_For you are my fate, _

_My sweet,_

_I want no world,_

_For beautiful you are my world,_

_My true_

_And it's_

_You _

_Are _

_Whatever a moon_

_Has always meant,_

_And whatever a sun _

_Will always sing,_

_Is you_

_Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,_

_Here is the _

_root _

_of _

_the_

_root,_

_And the _

_bud _

_of _

_the _

_bud,_

_And the sky of the sky,_

_Of a tree called life;_

_Which grows higher than the soul can hope,_

_Or _

_mind _

_can _

_hide,_

_And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart,_

_I carry your heart,_

_I carry it in my heart_'

"_That_ poem? Your mother always liked it – but most of it makes no sense," Lady Catherine replied, after she finished reading it. Wilhelm still stared, his grin widening with every word that he read.

"Neither did the translation, neither does the way that we feel, neither does the world, neither did her little games and puzzles," he said, still staring at the wall hanging. "God, I love that woman," he laughed. "And she loves me too! She was trying to tell me that all along, I just didn't get it! She _wanted_ me to read the poem so I would know – she's brilliant!"

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she questioned.

"Sorry Aunt, but I'm afraid I can't help you, you had best head back to Rosings, your driver is still outside, is he not? I have to arrange something," he said. "If she wants to play games, I can play them too," he grinned.

"Wilhelm! You've gone quite mad!" she exclaimed in shock. "I'm going home – get some sleep, young man, I don't want my nephew carted off to Bedlam for the whole word to see!" she cried.

"That's quite alright, Aunt, because she'll probably end up in there with me," he smiled, looking back at the wall hanging. He couldn't help but laugh again.

Oh how he loved her.

**A/N: Ha.**

**Remember, review and vote on my author's page for my next story :D**


	43. surprise, surprise

**A/N: I had fun in the last chapter :D I hope you did too, this one was fun as well :D**

She hadn't felt like seeing the record company, but she knew that she had been in hiding for too long, and she had to face reality. A meeting had been scheduled for that morning, and she received the call when she awoke to come in by ten. She showered, changed and took a taxi into the centre of London to get to _Jules_, walking through the sterile, ultra-modern rooms with nervousness.

She knew that they were going to be angry. She couldn't blame them, she had disappeared off the face of the universe for months on end, and speculation was running high. She took a deep breath when the secretary informed her that she could go in, preparing herself for the worst.

But she certainly didn't expect what she saw when she walked into the room.

"Ah, there you are Ella, I trust you remember Darcy here?" Mr Lycos said cheerfully when she entered.

"I – uh – yes I – umm," she stammered, when her eyes fell onto the familiar figure sitting in a plush office chair before Mr Lycos' desk.

"Hello Ella," he greeted, with a smile as she entered.

"Hi Darcy," she replied, blushing slightly. What was he doing there? She knew full well that he had a deal with the same record company as her, but why were they in the same office together when Ella was supposed to be having a private meeting had completely escaped her.

"Sit down Ella, we've got some things to discuss," Mr Lycos said, waving his hand towards another chair next to Darcy's. She hesitatingly sat down, slightly put off by Darcy's presence, but also by the fact that he was smiling. Actually _smiling_. Even Mr Lycos must have noticed the silly grin on his face.

"Listen, I know that I've kind of been… ignoring you guys, but I just wanted to say –" Ella began, but was silenced by Mr Lycos waving his hand to quieten her.

"Did wonders for the press, they're all over Kipling now, they can't wait until the next album is released, the sales will be through the roof," he replied.

"Yes, about the next album, I know that we wanted to start the recording by now, and I know that we haven't even finished writing, but we _did_ have to change cellists…" she threw in, but she was once again by Lycos trying to silence her.

"Ella dear, I don't mind at all!" he informed her, chuckling at her nervousness. "I want you to produce another album next year, but you're safe for now," he assured her.

"Oh… alright?" she replied warily, not sure what was going to happen next.

"Are you familiar with some of Darcy's music?" Mr Lycos asked her, finally getting down to business.

"Yes, I am," Ella replied, nervously biting her lip and glancing over at Darcy, who was watching her with a soft Mona Lisa smile on his face.

"I'll sell this to you straight. Young Wilhelm here has suggested that you two make a CD together," he announced.

Ella stared back at her boss, blinking slowly.

"You have?" she questioned, turning back to Darcy, who nodded silently.

"Under a few conditions of course, I wrote up a contract last night," he explained, pulling forwards a few pieces of paper. "It's for the record company to sign, these are the conditions," he continued, giving her the top sheet of paper.

Ella's eyes scanned the page. He had listed things that gave both of them complete artistic freedom, so that they weren't obligated to play anything of a particular style or mood, but what they wanted, basically things to be rid of a lot of the over-controlling influences of the company.

"Umm… are you sure?" Ella questioned, turning to Darcy, who nodded, still with his quiet smile.

"I would like to make music with you," he replied. Ella blushed slightly, and glanced back at the conditions.

"Err… why?" she asked him curiously, as he shrugged.

"Your music is interesting. I like interesting," he explained simply. "You don't have to if you don't want to, or you could consider it for a while if you wish," he suggested.

"No, I – I want to do it," she said firmly, lowering the page.

"Wonderful!" cried Mr Lycos cheerfully. "Now we're very lucky that Wilhelm pulled an all nighter, because his company represents ours anyway, so a lot of the legal business has been cleared up quite quickly, you two can pretty much toddle off and make some music," he said, pulling forwards some more papers.

"Wait – I have one condition as well," Ella threw in. Darcy glanced over at her, and Mr Lycos stopped going through contracts, his eyes searching her face.

"And that is…?" he trailed off.

"I want to do a performance when it's finished. With Darcy," she said. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Darcy tense up, she knew full well that he didn't exactly do the performance thing. He played music and recorded, that was pretty much it. "Bono is probably organising another charity concert, we could raise so much money if we both performed together," she explained.

"Wilhelm? Do you agree?" Mr Lycos asked steadily. Ella turned to Darcy, who was staring straight ahead, conflicting emotions over his face, but an iron curtain over his eyes.

"Okay," he said finally. Ella breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Alright then, I can have my people look these things over, you two are free to go! I can't wait to hear what you get up to," Lycos smiled, standing up.

Ella and Darcy both rose to their feet, shook hands with Mr Lycos, and left the office.

They were completely silent until they approached the elevator. Standing beside each other in complete silence in such a confined space was practically an impossibility, but there was a great deal of awkwardness hanging in the air.

"My Aunt, last night, I just wanted to… apologise," Darcy got out finally, sighing deeply. "I don't even know how she found out where you live," he added.

"It's okay," Ella said softly. She smiled, and glanced up at him. "So… what do we do now?" she asked.

"Your place," he replied simply.

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"You need to get some clothes and things," he informed her, tapping his foot and staring up at the coloured numbers above the elevator doors as it sunk down to the bottom floor.

"Why?" she questioned, her frown becoming more pronounced.

"You're going to stay at my place for a while," he answered.

"Why?" she repeated.

"I have a miniature recording studio there."

"I have a dog."

"He can come too."

"I have a phone. And people call it. They expect me to answer it."

"They can call your mobile."

"I don't like being told what to do."

"I don't like tomatoes. Or cucumbers either actually, but I don't mind zucchini. What's the difference between cucumber and zucchini?" he questioned randomly, smiling down at her. She glared up at him with her hands on her hips. "It's okay, I'm not trying to force you to do anything, I just think that if we invade each other's creative bubbles we could make a pretty good team," he explained.

Ella was silent for a moment, thinking it over.

"You cook zucchinis, and you eat cucumber raw," she said finally. Darcy grinned slightly as the elevator doors opened.

"That must be it," he said finally, placing a hand on the small of her back, and leading her out of the building.

"How long am I staying at your place?" she asked when she entered her house a little while later, Michelangelo barking happily in greeting as she crossed the entry to the lounge room.

"I'm not sure. A couple of days? Maybe a week, maybe more," he shrugged, following her in. She glanced back at him and rolled her eyes, heading upstairs to her loft. "You redecorated," he commented, looking around after patting Michelangelo's head softly.

"Yeah, I did it a while ago, Spring, I guess," she replied, pulling open her wardrobe. Darcy followed her upstairs, still looking around curiously, sliding his hand along the banister slowly.

"It looks nice," he informed her, taking the bird's eye view of her house. "What's the extra loft for?" he questioned, glancing over at the other room diagonal to Ella's own.

"Oh, it's sort of a guest room, I had a lot of people coming to stay with me over this year, they at least deserved a room to stay in," she replied, tossing a few things into an open bag as Wilhelm sat down on her bed, still looking around, noting things like the posters on the wall, the rug, the collection of small stuffed toys in the corner.

"Quite considerate of you," he commented, his eyes still following her as she pulled a shirt from one of her draws. She only shrugged, and tossed the shirt into the bag.

"Should I bring anything with me? Like one of my guitars or something?" she asked, but he merely shook his head.

"I have quite a few," he replied. "I was serious when I said you could bring your dog, I can have my gardener look after him if you want," he offered. Ella rolled her eyes, and picked up another smaller bag, with little pictures of bones and balls and collars on it, obviously for her dog. "What's its name?" he asked curiously, glancing downstairs as the little ball of brown fluff settled himself on the sofa comfortably.

"Michelangelo Zephyrus Bennette," Ella replied, grabbing a couple of his toys that were scattered on her bedroom floor and putting them in the bag.

"Michelangelo Zephyrus Bennette?" Darcy questioned doubtfully, hiding a smirk in his voice. "Funny name," he commented quietly, earning himself a playful scowl from Ella that made his heart soar.

"It was either that or Bob. I don't like Bob," she answered teasingly, zipping up her bag and swinging it over her shoulder, and with her other hand picking up Michelangelo's half-packed personal effects.

"And yet you named yourself after Bob Dylan," he commented, following Ella down the stairs with a grin on his face.

"Yes, but I used the name Zimmerman – not Bob," she explained, before she headed over to the kitchen to get some more of Michelangelo's things.

Silence fell over the two for a moment as Ella gave Michelangelo's water and food bowls a quick rinse, and took a few cans of his dog food and biscuits from the cupboard.

"Remember when we were at Pemberley," Ella began. "And Mrs Reynolds tried to tell us about how you broke the soap dish?" she questioned, glancing over at him. Darcy instantly turned red.

"Hmm. Yes," he replied, knowing full well where the topic of conversation was going.

"How did you do it?" she asked, settling against the bench and watching him with her keen French Blue eyes. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up as he went.

"Not the best story to tell in public," he said, trying to dodge answering. Ella gave him a teasing glare in response.

"Come on, you can tell me," she poked, before Darcy gave one more annoyed sigh.

"Just – don't laugh, and remember that it _really_ hurt, so if you laugh you're being insanely cruel," he said sternly, as Ella grinned.

"Scout's honour," she promised.

"Well… I was about four or five years old," he began, staring at his shoes in determination. "Mum had run me a bath, but it was still pretty hot, so… I was standing on the edge of the bath, and I leant back and sat on the soap dish, with my feet still on the side," he continued.

"Oh dear," Ella said, instantly knowing where the story was going and trying to muffle giggles.

"I was just doing the usual four or five year old thing, humming away and waiting for the bath to cool down, and… the soap dish broke," he managed to get out, a hand over his head as he winced with the memory. "I'll tell you what, slicing your behind on a soap dish isn't the most gallant thing you can do," he admitted finally, as Ella erupted into a fit of laughter.

"Do you have a scar?" she asked amidst guffaws, clutching her stomach and almost kneeling over.

"Yes. I had to have stitches," he muttered quietly, causing Ella to laugh harder. "You said you would laugh! You swore on Scout's Honour!" he cried, clearly offended.

"I was never a Scout," she informed him, still laughing her head off. Darcy scowled, and crossed his arms.

"You're really quite horrid, you do know," he said, clearly affronted. Ella was still laughing, and was not offended.

"I hope you know how British you sounded when you just said that," she replied simply, earning her another scowl.

"Horrid. Very horrid." Darcy said simply.

"I'm sorry – I know, I'm horrid," she said, still grinning from ear to ear. "I've got everything," she informed him finally, zipping up Michelangelo's bag, and picking up his doggy basket from the floor.

"Does he need that?" Wilhelm asked, glancing at the basket.

"Not really, he normally sleeps in my bed," Ella shrugged.

"You let your dog sleep in your bed with you?" he questioned incredulously, as Ella nodded. "Letting a dog sleep in your bed… crazy…" he muttered.

"Well that's alright, I'm not asking you to have him sleeping in your bed, stupid," she laughed.

"Does he sleep with you every night?" he asked, glancing down at the lucky, lucky dog currently playing with his shoelaces.

"Most," Ella replied, shrugging.

"He's not sleeping with you at my house," Darcy said sternly, as Ella laughed again. "I'm serious! He'll get dog hair everywhere!" he cried.

"He's not that bad," Ella laughed in response. "He's my little boy! I can't reject him, he'll cry," she tried to explain, still laughing.

"There's only going to be one boy in your bed, and it won't be him," muttered Darcy under his breath.

"What did you say?" Ella asked, beckoning Michelangelo towards her.

"Nothing. Just that… my cat used to sleep in my bed when I was a kid," he said simply, very glad that she hadn't heard him.

"What? You can have a _cat_ in your bed, but not a dog? _Cats_ are the ones that leave hair everywhere, not dogs," she objected, as Darcy shrugged, and took her bag off her shoulder to carry it.

"Not a cat person?" he asked, as she almost shuddered.

"_Not_ a cat person," she replied pointedly, as they headed to the front door.

"You're safe then, I don't have a cat anymore, just Cody, but he prefers the outdoors," he informed her, stepping out into the street as she locked her door.

"That's alright, Michelangelo would have protected me anyway," she rationalised, petting the head of the dog in her arms. Wilhelm resisted the urge to scowl at it. That was a _very_ lucky dog.

"How attached would you say you are to that dog?" Wilhelm asked a few minutes later as they sat in the back of his Bently, his London driver Milton in the front.

"On a scale of one to ten?" Ella asked teasingly, still patting the smooth chestnut fur atop Michelangelo's head.

"Don't you dare say seven," Wilhelm laughed, recalling their interesting walk through Lambton.

"I don't know… eleven?" she replied with a grin, and Wilhelm could swear that Michelangelo gave smug little bark.

"You'll spoil him," he said pointedly, but with a grin still on his face. Ella couldn't help but note how much more attractive he looked when he was smiling.

"Nah, he spoils me," she replied, brushing back his fur.

The two fell into comfortable silence for a little while, nothing needed to be said, so nothing was said. It wasn't awkward, it was just thoughtful.

"I forgot how huge this place was," Ella exclaimed, staring up at the majestic London townhouse. It was giant really. "Oh, you got more roses!" she cried, picking Michelangelo up and rushing over to the gardens. Wilhelm had refused to let her take her own bag, so she had only Michelangelo's effects swinging on her shoulder as she gazed at the beautiful new additions to Wilhelm's front garden.

"My mother adored roses," Wilhelm commented, walking up behind Ella after instructing his driver to take her bag and Michelangelo's bed inside. She was kneeling down slightly, looking at a very small, bright yellow rose growing off vines on the side of a tree. He placed his hand on the small of her back, as if it had always been there, relishing in the feel of the warm skin beneath her shirt. She straightened up, Michelangelo bounding out of her hands and looking curiously up at a large tree, Wilhelm not removing his hand.

"I love roses," Ella informed him smilingly. She enjoyed the feeling of his hand on the small of her back more than she could say, but she had an awful feeling in the bottom of her stomach that any minute now, he was going to tell her that he wanted to be friends, and nothing more. She tried to push those thoughts from her head, but they still gnawed at her.

"Hmm. Rosé," he said thoughtfully, considering her name. "Yes, you're very much like a rose," he added, with a soft grin. "Come on then Michelangelo, inside," he called, looking over Ella's shoulder to her playful puppy, who was stalking a caterpillar with intense interest.

"Oh, Ella! My, it's lovely to see you!" was the cheerful greeting Ella was given when they entered the house, Mrs Reynolds meeting them in the front hallway. "Splendid! So I hear you're going to stay here for a while to write with young Wilhelm here?" she questioned, leading Ella into the front sitting room. Wilhelm reluctantly removed his hand, knowing full well that he wouldn't get Ella back for another twenty minutes. Abigail had a bit of a mouth on her.

It took Wilhelm fifteen minutes to talk with his gardener, who normally looked after Cody anyway, arranging to have Michelangelo looked after for the next couple of days, before he headed back into the front room, where Ella was still sitting, talking to Abigail.

"Can I have her back now, please?" Wilhelm requested, standing in the doorway and staring at the scene before him with a soft smile. A small thought drifted through his mind, whispering that it would be quite nice to have Ella sitting in the rooms of his house a lot more often.

"Well, I suppose, but I'm rather attached now," Ella said playfully, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement as she looked up at Wilhelm, who could only laugh at her response.

"Abby, you know the drill," he said to his housekeeper, who nodded, a twinkle in her eyes. Ella stood, and left the room, gazing around with wonder at every part of the grand house.

"So, care to fill me in on the drill?" she asked curiously, as he shrugged playfully, and put his hands in his pockets.

"It's a system that allows me to work to my full creative potential," he replied, in a very guarded, slightly amused manner, as if he had a personal joke that Ella wasn't going to be filled in on.

"Bully," she replied teasingly, giving him a short poke in the side. He only laughed, and walked behind her to avoid such punishment. "So where are we going?" she asked curiously.

"The music room," he replied, just as he pushed open a door, and urged Ella inside.

She walked into the centre of the room, gaping just as she had done previously in the music room at Pemberley. It was equipped with everything, if not more that his other music room had, guitars, keyboards, a cello, a violin or two, a giant harp, a gleaming grand piano, and even the miniature recording studio. Although it was almost like her second time seeing in, as she had laid her eyes on the one in Pemberley, it could not cease to amaze her.

"H – hang on, what are you doing?" she asked, turning around quickly. Darcy was standing in front of the door, and locking it.

From the inside.

Before he took the key, and slid it under the door.

Out of the room.

"You did it before, you can do it again," he said simply, checking to make sure that the door was locked.

It was.

"What are you talking about?" she questioned, a terrible feeling dawning on her. "Oh no… no, I'm not doing it! Let me out!" she cried, rushing over towards the door.

"There's a bathroom over there, two fold out couches so we can sleep, and I've worked out a very clever system for food," he said proudly, blocking her way as she tried to lunge at the door. "There's a miniature elevator that used to be used for taking laundry and buckets of hot water up and down the stairs before the plumbing was installed," he began, his hands going under her arms, pushing her back from the door effortlessly. "Food can be put on it and lowered down easily, I'm quite proud of it, actually," he grinned.

"You can't imprison me!" she cried angrily, still struggling against his grip.

"Actually," he said, picking her up clear off the ground, and swinging her over his shoulder. "I can," he replied cheerfully.

"No! It was stupid of me to try that in the first place!" she practically screamed, beating his back with her fists angrily.

"You produced five _amazing_ tracks in the space of eighteen hours. We have all the time we could want, and the resources to do this for the rest of our lives," he said, walking over to the piano. "Or rather, the rest of _my_ life, because you're probably going to die earlier than I am, that whole not eating meat and not touching breakfast thing, plus, all of this needless struggling isn't good for your heart," he continued, as if they were simply discussing the weather. He deposited her on the piano stool, resisting the urge to press a kiss to her pouting lips as she glared up at him.

"I really hate you sometimes," she said angrily. He only grinned.

"Darling, you haven't seen the half of it," he replied. "Now, shall we get to work?" he asked pleasantly.

Ella wanted to laugh, but she was too annoyed.

But she had to admit, when he tried, he really was quite cute.

**A/N: The poll on my author's page will be open until the end of this story, you have to vote on what you want me to post next or else I might just post some of my Doctor Who fanfics, which would bore you terribly :/ So please review and vote :D I love you all :D**


	44. the lockdown

Wilhelm's pale silver eyes watched the dial of the metronome tick from side to side, his head supported by his hands, his hands supported by his arms, which were supported by his elbows, perched atop the closed lid of the piano as he waited.

And waited.

"You can't sulk forever," he reminded her pointedly.

"Lies. You underestimate my sulking power."

"You're only making this more difficult than it need be," he sighed.

"Shutup. You locked me in here, it's your fault," she snapped.

"_Ellie_, you're becoming very trying," he said sternly. She lifted her head, and glanced at him.

"You called me Ellie," she said, his tone filled with surprise. He simply continued to stare at the metronome.

"You call me Darcy," he responded tonelessly.

"No one's ever called me Ellie before. Well, no one with a full set of teeth," she muttered thoughtfully.

"I like to set trends."

"Why the hell did you decide to do this anyway?" she asked curiously from her position by the door.

"I'm really into Harry Houdini."

"Hang on," she said, rising to her feet. She glanced around, before taking one black All Star off her foot, and throwing it at Wilhelm.

"Hey! That was mean!" he cried, falling off his piano stool with shock. He rubbed the side of his arm bitterly, muttering about rude women and evil shoes.

"So was locking me in here," she replied, poking her tongue out. He rolled his eyes, and got back onto his piano stool. He shifted aside when she moved to take a seat next to him, noting her familiar scent of wild strawberries and lilies.

"Are you going to be good now?" he asked her sternly, like a father scolding his child.

"Listen, before we do anything, I just wanted to…" she began awkwardly, her eyes glued to the piano as she bit her lip in determination. "_Tell_ you, I guess, that I'm… well, I'm very grateful to everything you've done for me, and for my family," she said slowly.

"I –"

"No, just… let me, for a minute," she interrupted. "I mean, you sent me that letter, even though you knew that it wouldn't change anything, but just so that you could warn me off Gee, and…" she trailed off.

"Please don't talk about that letter. It was so rude – I can't believe I said half of the things I said in it," he said calmly, his voice low but strained.

"The letter was… beautiful. It let me know that after all of it, you still just wanted me to be happy and safe," she said softly. "For what you did for me, for Lye, and I suspect Jayne too, I just want to say thank you, on my behalf, and on the behalf of my family," she continued in earnest. She watched Wilhelm's hand creep towards hers, until he had twined their fingers in two.

"I didn't do it for your family. I did it for you," he said quietly, after a long silence. "All of it. Lye, Jayne and Charlie, I did what I could to see you happy. It was entirely selfish of me. I just like to see you smile," he admitted softly.

"You – you still…?"

"'_here is the deepest secret nobody knows…here is the root of the root, and the bud of the bud, and the sky of the sky of a tree called life_…'" he quoted, as Ella took a raspy, almost tear-choked breath and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

"'_which grows higher than the soul can hope, or mind can hide_…" she continued.

"'_and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_…" was his responsive whisper, as his silver eyes locked onto hers.

"'_I carry your heart_'"

"'_I carry it in my heart_…'"

There was silence.

And then an explosion as two lips collided, four hands found their places over two bodies, two hearts settled into one beat in time with the metronome, which ticked back and forth, each second passing being lost, but treasured in the one heart shared by the two.

This time it was different.

There was no issue of propriety and one sided lack of consent, there was no children playing in the background, no busy street full of people, no outstanding lovers and no hospital regulations to hold them back – there was just the ticking of a metronome and each other to fill their own little world.

It was about three AM when Wilhelm rolled over on the couch, muttering something in the midst of sleep that was muffled by cushions and a silk covered doona.

"Mmm… Ella," he groaned, his hands searching the space beside him for the warm form of his muse, only to find cold, empty space.

He pulled the blanket closer to him, and smiled softly in the memory of the day gone. Kisses interrupted by a rather uncomfortable falling off of a certain piano stool, several more kisses spread out over the day as try tried to find _it_, the direction that the album was going to take, the words, the tunes, the whisperings of something more in the back of their minds, two brief meals spread out on the floor beneath the piano, a small argument about cucumbers and zucchinis, and seeing Ella awkwardly step out of the bathroom, wearing an oversized shirt that qualified as pyjamas. His smile grew as he recalled the wonderful feeling of falling asleep with her beside him, chatting away until they both fell into slumber.

So where was Ella?

"Mm… Ella?" he said again, his eyes flickering open and taking in his surroundings, lit with a desk lamp over the piano. There she sat, her hair tied back simply with an elastic as she stared determinedly down at a sheet of paper, occasionally scribbling things on there, or rubbing out things she didn't want.

He slid off the make-shift bed and crossed the room, rubbing his eyes as he headed towards Ella. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, tiredly kissing her neck softly.

"Oh, sorry, you should go back to bed," Ella said, almost jumping when she felt his arms around her.

"Can't," he replied, although his tone clearly suggested that he was exhausted. "Got to have you next to me," he muttered through a yawn. "What are you doing?" he questioned sleepily.

"Writing," she replied, her eyes still not leaving the paper. He peered down at it thoughtfully.

"Is it a melody or something?" he asked curiously. She shrugged.

"I was thinking… what about… instead of a group of songs, one really long song with lots of different parts, and all the tracks sort of… blend into each other?" she suggested slowly, trying to get her words out. Wilhelm looked at her thoughtfully.

"That could work," he admitted. "Very well," he added. "That could… wow, that could be amazing," he said, his mind's eye suddenly racing. "But… it's three AM," he reminded her.

"Yes, 'tis," she replied cheerfully.

"Nuh-uh, _sleep_," he said sternly. She laughed as his strong arms went around her middle and pulled her into the air, against his chest, before he stumbled back to the bed, taking her with him.

"Will! No, put me down!" she urged him, still giggling. He submitted to her request, practically tossing her onto the folded-out couch, before falling down there himself to join her. "Bully," she said, poking her little pink tongue out at him.

"Yep," he replied sleepily, kissing her lips briefly, before pulling her into his arms, and tugging the blanket up to cover their bodies.

Mrs Reynolds smiled softly as she passed the hallway. She had fallen asleep in front of the television in her room, and decided to quickly check to make sure that Master Wilhelm hadn't slipped a request under the door for more blankets or pillows on a sheet of paper.

She was smiling because she could hear the soft laughter and conversation coming from behind the door between her ward and his love. Her smile widened softly before she started to head back to her room. She passed a portrait as she went; it held the familiar figure of Lady Anne Darcy, smiling with all of her beauty and grace.

"Yes indeed ma'am, looks like we might have a new mistress before long, and maybe a few little lords and ladies over the next few years," she said softly, her eyes tracing the face of one of the best women one could ever have met. She sighed softly, and gave another grin.

Her boy was going to be happy, at last.

"What do you _mean;_ 'random'?" Wilhelm questioned, his tone revealing that he was indeed, exasperated.

"I don't know! Some random sounds, like… like someone playing tennis, or the sound of paper ripping or something," she replied, running a hand through her curls.

"No, I don't – hang on, it's too simple, this bit!" he cried, practically hitting a sheet of paper angrily. "It needs something else, it's too plain," he tried to convince her.

"No, it's not, the vocals set it off," she said, leaning over him to get to the piano. "See, try this," she suggested, starting to play. "_You can feel the fall of an angel_," she sung softly, accentuating the words. "Are you sure about 'feel'?" she asked, staring at the paper.

"It's the repetition of the 'F' sound," he muttered, picking up a pencil and chewing in the end.

"Well what about 'see'?" she offered. "I liked that thing you were doing before, when you weren't finishing the lines, just leaving one or two words hanging," she informed him.

"I thought you said that it sounded too 'open'," he replied pointedly.

"That's why we need the random sounds in there!" she stressed.

Wilhelm groaned with annoyance. They had been in there for four days.

Four days.

They had the middle, and something getting close to the end, but the beginning was escaping them. He _loved_ getting into her creative bubble; she was so… he couldn't describe it, that was perhaps it. She said absolutely anything that she thought, and it allowed him to see her mind.

It didn't just work weirdly, it worked in a _completely _different manner to everyone else's, and she didn't even know. It was like she had a fountain in her mind, and in the bottom of the fountain was her entire consciousness, but the spout of the fountain gurgled out several thoughts at a time, they all seemed quite random and unconnected, but she made them _work_, and she somehow applied that to music.

But the problem was, Ella didn't like being locked in a room for extended periods of time, and her already short fuse was practically non-existent, making for an irritable experience.

"Okay, just… what kind of random noises did you mean?" he asked, beckoning for her to come closer. She had been searching through her bag to find her phone and check her messages. She gave up and stood, her oversized shirt falling to her jean-clad thighs and completely enveloping her hands.

"Rain," she said, sliding onto his lap, and kissing his neck softly. "And… the sound of… sweeping, like a scratching sound," she tried to explain. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, hugging her close to his body as he closed his eyes, trying to think.

"I think I'm getting what you're talking about," he said suddenly, as he started to pick notes on the piano. "Umm… this?" he said thoughtfully, playing a quiet, very simple melody.

"Yes! But, lilting…" she trailed off, placing her hands over his. They moved together over the piano, picking out the melody until they knew the note the other was going to hit next, when they were one musician, but two people. "_As oceans collide_…" she began to sing softly, not sure where the lyrics were coming from. "_And the moon, it meets the night… arrested my breath, with no name, and no light…_" she continued.

Wilhelm held her to him tighter, feeling her words flow right through him.

"You okay?" she asked softly, still playing the melody.

"Weird…" he muttered softly.

"Yeah, I know," she replied, turning her face to his.

"Feels right though, doesn't it," he muttered.

"Right? It feels more than right, it feels…"

"Natural," he offered. Ella buried her head in his chest, and breathed in his scent, washing powder clinging to his unbuttoned Oxford shirt, the faint odour of his cologne and soap, and something decidedly _Wilhelm_.

Wilhelm kissed the top of her head softly, his hand sliding under her sweater and softly caressing the smooth skin of her back. In that moment, music was forgotten, just like it had been forgotten in many moment of distraction previously.

"Forgiven me for locking you in here yet?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm… how about no?" she replied playfully, rising her head and kissing him softly on the lips.

"Huh!" he huffed, in mocking offence. "Have I told you how horrid you are today?" he asked, as she grinned.

"Can't remember," she replied laughingly, pressing a slow kiss to his neck.

"Well… I… err – y – you," he stammered, his voice unsteady. She started to kiss a point just below his ear, and his eyes fluttered to a close. "I – I – umm…" he managed to get out.

"Are you trying to tell me that you've lost the ability to speak with multiple syllables, and you would like to get back to work now?" she asked lightly from somewhere above his shoulder.

"No," he squeaked simply, his arms wrapping around her, his hands relishing the soft ivory skin covering her spine.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impede your 'creative process'," she replied innocently. His eyes opened, and he shook his head firmly. Ella grinned playfully.

"You aren't impeding anything," he stammered out.

"Aw, you're so polite and forgiving," she teased, sliding off his lap. "I feel like tea," she announced playfully. "Do you want any? I think that I'll send a note up to Mrs Reynolds and -" she began, before Wilhelm's long arms grabbed her around the middle and pulled her back to the piano, her announcement being interrupted by her own playful squeal. "Will!" she cried, and was about to teasingly scold him, before he finally pressed his lips against hers, and all thought of tea drifted from her mind.

He loved her kisses. He loved her touch. He loved everything about her; he even loved it on the hardwood floor of the music room because it was _her, _and he had already given up any hope of that being her. To have that hope restored meant the world to him.

He smiled softly a few hours later. Thankfully they had ended up on the couch, where the surface was not nearly as uncomfortable, and she was sleeping peacefully by his side. He pressed a tiny kiss to her forehead, and pushed back a lock of dark hair.

It didn't matter if they never sold a single copy of the CD that may or may not _actually_ be made – he had her. That was more important to him than his music.

"Mm… sleep," she muttered against his chest, when she sensed that he was awake.

"Good for you," he replied teasingly. He felt her smile against his unclothed skin, and held her closer.

"I like this," she said softly, so softly that he could hardly hear her. "You and me. Us," she clarified.

"I love this," he replied. "It's perfect this way, just you and I, no one else," he continued, as Ella gave a soft laugh in response.

"You'd bore me eventually," she joked. "Hmm, does this mean that I can only kiss you when it's just you and I?" she asked curiously, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

"Of course," he replied. Ella frowned slightly. "I mean, you can't kiss people in front of other people. Well – I can't, and I wouldn't expect that of you," he shrugged.

"Really?" she questioned.

"Well… yeah," he answered, his eyes searching hers. "It's not right, and I don't want everyone poking into our relationship," he added. Ella tilted her head back to its original position, resting against his chest. "Y – you _want_ to kiss in public?" he questioned incredulously.

"No, it's just… I don't know!" she responded. "Do you really care so much about what people think? It's just a kiss, what does it even matter? They can talk all they want, I certainly don't give a damn, but do _you_?" she asked, curling her hand up in his chest.

"No, but… Ella, it has nothing to do with them, it's just _us_," he explained. She nodded her head softly.

"I don't want to show off, and I don't want them putting pictures of us in their magazines, but… if we _weren't_ in the spotlight, would you kiss me in front of other people?" she asked softly, but he only shrugged.

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

"Because if we have to change who we are, or what we do because of _them_, then they've won," she said. "I don't want them to win."

Wilhelm kissed her forehead softly.

"With you by my side, they _can't_ win," he swore quietly.

"Promise?" she asked, her French Blue eyes rising to meet his slowly. For one single second, he saw a flicker of the vulnerable Ella that he had only caught glimpses of it the past.

"Scouts Honour," he replied teasingly. She rolled her eyes, and grinned. "I promise on… on the stars, the moon, your pretty blue eyes," he said softly, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips. She shifted closer to him, and smiled softly, silence falling between the two.

"Wilhelm?" she said a little while later, her tone suggesting that she was on the verge of sleep.

"Yes?"

"I forgive you for locking me in here," she told him quietly. He smiled.

"I love you," he said softly, but she was already asleep.

**A/N: Remember to review and vote on my author's page for the story you want me to write next!**


	45. sometimes you can't make it on your own

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, I've been so caught up with preparations for my formal that I haven't had the time to write :s But here it is! The second-last chapter! **

**The CD that Darcy and Ella make is actually the soundtrack to Varekai, a Cirque du Soleil production. It's an amazing album, really creative and out there, something I thought that Darcy and Ella would like. I'm sure you would all love it if you heard it, so look it up on youtube, particularly the first three tracks, which are as follows:**

**Aureus**

**Rain One**

**Le Reveur**

**Just listen to whatever you can, you can get some sound samples from the website, it's really fantastic :D**

**The song used in this chapter is 'Sometimes you can't make it on your own' by U2. Listen to it.**

"I can't _believe_ you would do that!" she cried angrily, wiping a tear away as she crossly threw a shoe at him. She started to toss clothing into her bag, it had been a week since they released themselves from the music room and maintained free reign over the house, so her things were much more spread out than would be helpful in her current situation.

"It makes it _fit_! The whole album, it _works_!" he tried to convince her wearily, running a hand over his hair.

"I don't give a _shit_ Wilhelm Darcy!" she snapped. "I'll destroy it! I'll destroy the whole bloody stupid CD, I can't _believe_ you!" she cried.

"You can't destroy it, we have a contract, and thanks to _you_, we've got to perform something from it at that stupid bloody charity thing the day after tomorrow!" he responded pointedly.

"I am _not_ performing _anything_ from that CD with you – particularly not your clever little bit of _trickery_, on or _off_stage ever again!" she cried, throwing a pair of her jeans into the bag.

"It wasn't trickery, I honestly didn't know it was recording," he tried to explain.

"I don't _care_! You should have deleted it, ignored it, not _put it on a bloody CD_!" she screamed, throwing her other shoe at him.

"It's just the audio! Serge Gainsbourg and Bridget Bardot did, and _they_ didn't have shoes thrown at them!" Wilhelm cried, trying to convince her.

"How the hell do you think my family, the people I know and love are going to react when they hear us having sex in the middle of an album?" she asked flippantly.

"You're over-exaggerating; it's just a couple of seconds of sound, that's it," he snapped.

"A couple of seconds of sound in which _we_ are engaging in activities that I would rather my father _didn't_ have to listen to!" she cried angrily, going over to the bed, and rummaging through the sheets. She found her bra and threw it at her bag, ducking under the bed to get one of her shoes. Then she threw it at Wilhelm.

"You don't get it! We worked on those songs for almost a _month_! It's not just some music to me anymore, it's the… it's the sound of love, _our_ love," he defended, ducking the other shoe as she threw it at him.

"Don't get poetic on _me_," she snapped. She closed her bag quickly, the zipper giving an angry hiss as it complied to her wishes, before she swung it over her shoulder.

"You would have done the same thing."

"What, and I'm supposed to like you more because we're apparently alike? I wouldn't do that, Darcy," she snapped in response.

"You can't just _go_!" he cried angrily. "You need me just as much as I need you – you can't just go through your whole life on your own," he stressed.

"Mister Darcy – I can assure you, I _can_ make it on my own," she said pointedly.

"Don't leave," he begged, stepping in front of her. "_Don't_ leave, please," he pleaded.

"Change it."

"No."

"Then I'm going," she replied, pushing past him. She pulled open the door and slammed it shut after she had walked through. Wilhelm stared at the spot were she had been.

She was gone.

He stormed over to his bed, and began to pace. He was muttering angrily under his breath about how stupid she was being, and how very stubborn.

He couldn't believe it! Had she not listened to the whole album? Everything worked, that seven seconds of sound in the middle of the CD made it _perfect_; it brought it all together, he was _proud_ of the CD, because they hadn't made it for the rest of the universe; they had taken pictures of each other's minds and turned them into music.

How could she _not_ understand that?

He groaned, and ran a hand through his hair tiredly. Things had been so wonderful over the past month, and now they were all going down the drain. The combination of their stubbornness was a recipe for disaster, but he was so _sick_ of arguing! They always argued, mostly about inconsequential things, but _this_ was too serious for him to end with a playful kiss when he grew bored of the fighting.

He stormed out of his room, and headed down the hall, where the music room was situated. He walked through the open door, his heart falling as he did, because he could see evidence of _her_ all around. Clothing strewn on the floor, her empty mug of tea, even one of Michelangelo's toys lying innocently on the floor.

He kicked it.

It squeaked.

He practically growled in response, before stepping over it to get to his laptop. He moved the mouse to wake it up, then sat down at his desk, and opened up the media player, and the most recently added file.

He was greeted with the soft sound of rain, and the piano melody that he had originally considered so very simple, but realised that Ella had been right, it worked.

"_Falling..._"

He never really _did_ like listening to his own voice, it made him uncomfortable. Ella's soft whispers in Arabic or some sort of European language he didn't understand sent shivers down his spine, her voice soft and perfect.

"_Fall of an angel…  
You can see the fall…  
When you're feeling high…  
When you kiss the earth  
Angel of your mind – I'm blowing_"

He had found his angel. How had he let her go so easily? But it _frustrated_ him so that she couldn't understand. She was the one who went on about not letting the others win, and changing their music for the media was letting them win.

'_As oceans collide  
From the moon grows the sun  
Arrest my breath  
With no name and no one…  
Silence of the sound  
And the color of the night  
The sounds from the thoughts  
And the thoughts from light'_

Her voice was sweet like honey, dripping over the rain-dampened surface of the song, droplets brushed away by a dry broom. Lilting piano notes probed gentle fingers into their song-bubble, it all came together in a beautiful piece of magic.

'_Fluid and sinking  
I melt into the light  
There's nothing but space  
And my soul can take flight  
Silence of the sound  
And the colors of the night  
The sounds from the thoughts  
And the thoughts from light  
Fall of an angel…  
Falling…'_

He closed his eyes softly, and leant forwards, supporting his head with his hands, his elbows on the desk. The song was streaking a satin ribbon of indigo and violet and crimson and azure blue across his mind, a stunning sense of unity between he and Ella that had only been achieved previously during slightly more physical activities.

There was little indication between each of the tracks, the entire CD flowed brilliantly. They had paid tribute a combination of influences, some of it reminded Wilhelm of scenes from gypsy camps, and others of buskers in Paris, with their strange instruments and intoxicating lyrics.

And there it was, in the middle of the song, seven seconds of sound beneath a layer of piano and heavy rain, muffled, guttural moans from a decidedly masculine throat, and a soft gasp that sent a chill through his body. And then the sound stopped. It was quiet and hard to hear, it blended with the music.

So why couldn't she see that?

~*~

"Why can't he see it?" Ella cried with frustration, running a hand through her curls as she paced Jayne and Charlie's kitchen with frustration.

"It sounds like he's just trying to show how much he loves you," Jayne threw in, ignoring her cousin's annoyed glare.

"_He_ was the one that didn't want to shout our relationship out, I respected that! So why is he doing _this_?" she continued, Jayne rolling her baby-blue eyes as Ella rambled. She started the boil the kettle in response.

"Maybe both of you were trying to make a compromise for each other, and it just had a bad combination," Jayne suggested.

"I _don't_ compromise," Ella snapped angrily. "And neither does he. Do you know how _difficult_ he is to live with? He's terrible!" she cried.

~*~

"She's so… she's just so _difficult_!" Wilhelm cried, storming back and forth in his study, as Charlie spun around in his office chair, boredom evident on his face. "She's so stubborn! It's practically an impossibility to live with her!" he continued.

"Hmm…" Charlie muttered, tilting his head and staring up at the ceiling.

"What do you mean 'hmm'?" snapped Wilhelm.

"Well, it's just that… I _know_ she's difficult, I _know_ she's a bit of work," he explained, shrugging.

"Are you insulting her?" Wilhelm questioned angrily, his jaw tightening. Charlie wanted to give a snort of laughter, but he held it back.

"Never," he replied simply.

"You had better bloody not," Wilhelm snapped in response. "Why can't she get it? I did it for _her_ just as much as I did it for our music," he continued, once more beginning his pacing.

"You're going to wear a hole in that carpet," Charlie pointed out to him, but he was ignored.

"Did you know that _every_ night, no matter _what_, she wakes up at exactly three AM?" Wilhelm questioned to Charlie.

"Yes," he replied, doing another spin as he inspected his fingernails. "I know the family. I live with her cousin, who used to live with her. Apparently she's been like that since she was a baby," he explained, when Wilhelm sent him a curious look.

"I wouldn't mind it so much if she just went back to sleep, but she gets out of bed and starts playing the piano or writing lyrics or something ridiculous like that!" he explained with irritation.

"Well, look at the bright side," Charlie began, as Wilhelm gave a snort of stale laughter.

"_What_ bright side? She's left me. There _isn't_ a bright side," he snapped.

"When you two get married and have your own little screaming kids, she can always take the three AM feeding with no problem," he offered, hiding back laughter when Wilhelm glared at him.

"She doesn't even _want_ children. I mean, that's understandable, she's not even twenty-three – oh, that reminds me, it's her birthday in two weeks…" he trailed off.

"You were saying?"

"Yes! I mean, it's understandable, I mean, she's young, but I'm thirty-one! I don't want to be that creepy forty-five year-old father that turns up to their children's preschool graduation," he explained. "Why can't she be a few years older? She's still a child!"

"You don't exactly have one foot in the grave just yet, Darce," Charlie pointed out.

~*~

"And it's like he's got this whole life planned out for me, I can't stand it!" Ella cried, as Jayne sighed tiredly, and poured the hot water into the teapot.

"He _is_ thirty-one, you know, he's got a lot more experience than you do," Jayne pointed out. "Maybe he just wants to make sure you'll both have a secure life," she suggested.

"'Experience'?" questioned Ella sarcastically. "He's old! He's in his _thirties_. It's crazy! He was learning how to drive when I was still wearing Velcro shoes and catching fairies in the garden," she exclaimed.

"He's not _ancient_, Ella," Jayne pointed out.

"He _acts_ ancient sometimes," she snapped. "'Oh, it's ten o'clock, it's getting quite late, why don't we go to bed?'" she said sarcastically, imitating Darcy's deep voice. "'You know, you _really_ should be eating this, or stop eating that, here, would you like some prunes?'" she continued. Jayne stifled laughter.

"He didn't really say that, did he?" she asked, as stopped pacing.

"Well… not that about the prunes," she admitted. "But he's still so… so posh and dull!"

~*~

"She's so immature!" Wilhelm cried, swallowing down a mouthful of scotch with haste.

"You probably shouldn't drink it so fast," Charlie pointed out, watching his friend pour another glass of the fine amber liquid.

"She wants to stay up till all hours of the day, eat junk and wander around wearing nothing but a shirt and some shorts, _even when it's freezing outside_!" he exclaimed.

"She's Mediterranean. Maybe that makes her less susceptible to the cold?" suggested Charlie, although he had no knowledge of what he was speaking off.

"That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard come out of you, Charles," snapped Wilhelm. "I felt like I was babysitting her!" he continued, draining another glass.

"Right… so you _always_ sleep with the people you baby-sit? Have you been reading bad books again?" Charlie questioned teasingly.

"You know what she was reading when I found her in the library a few days ago, at three AM, might I inform you? _Lolita_. What the hell is wrong with her?" he questioned.

"You do realise that Lolita is a style of Japanese clothing – she probably didn't know what the book was about," pointed out Charlie. "You're just lucky she didn't find some of the _other_ books that are in your library," he added meaningfully.

"She doesn't have the key to the cabinet," Wilhelm muttered, brushing him off.

"Right. But just in case you wanted to know, she can pick pretty much any lock she gets her hands on, Jayne told me that she developed that 'skill' when she was sneaking in and out of her Aunt's place when she was living in London," he explained. Wilhelm blanched momentarily.

"Ohhh… I hope she didn't touch the cabinet," he muttered.

"It'd be a pretty big temptation for her, a locked cabinet containing books that have no titles on the outside," he threw in.

"She wouldn't. No. Not a chance."

~*~

"And these _books_! God, I couldn't believe it!" Ella cried, her hand tight around the olive green mug containing hot tea.

"What were they about?" Jayne asked curiously, sipping from her own mug.

"Well, I found Karma Sutra, and I found that kind of funny at first, but _then_… it was just creepy! And there was some sort of eighteenth century pornographic library, I mean, I can understand _that, _it'd just be appreciation of the art, to some respects," she explained. "But I'll tell you what, I had _no_ idea how many well-known poets and writers were leading double lives…" she trailed off.

"Ella, I think you're looking for any excuse to get angry with him," Jayne pointed out. Ella rolled her dark eyes in response.

"I don't _need_ an excuse. It's _him_. He makes me so angry sometimes!" she explained.

"But you love him, right?" Jayne questioned cautiously.

"Well, yeah! Of course I do," she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And does he know this?" Jayne asked.

Ella didn't reply. She cast her mind back to all of the times when he had said 'I love you'; she had never replied the same. She had never actually told him, in so many words, that she _did_ love him.

"Oh my god… I never told him," she exclaimed softly after a while. "Jayne, I never told him that I love him!" she cried, louder.

"Do you want to go tell him now?" she asked, but Ella didn't react. She pulled out her phone, and started quickly going through the phonebook.

She pulled up Darcy's number, and stared at it. Should she do it? She bit her lip nervously.

She placed her phone down on the table. She couldn't. He had to know that she was still angry with him.

~*~

"Do it."

"No."

"_Do it_."

"No!"

"Do you want me to make you?"

"Y'can't. I'm bigger than you."

"I have the power of the ninja, remember? Besides – you're drunk. You're a pushover when you're drunk."

"M'not. M'not! And m'not drunk, too!"

"You're completely pissed."

"Stop moving and I'll show _you_ whose pissed!"

"That made no sense."

"I said stop moving!"

"Just call her, you old tool."

~*~

The sun rose slowly over London, golden light shining into the apartment through one of the large windows, curtains pulled open.

"I've been horrible to him, haven't I," Ella sighed, staring miserably out into the early. "Terrible. He must hate me."

"You haven't been horrible to him; you're just having a little bit of a fight, that's all," Jayne said tiredly, hiding a yawn.

"No… I've been horrid," Ella said softly.

Jayne gave a stifled yawn, and rubbed her blue eyes, blinking away the early morning. They had been up all night, drinking tea and talking. She was exhausted.

"Jayne, I'm going to go home. You're tired. I'll see you soon, okay?" Ella said finally, standing up. She kissed her sleepy cousin's forehead and picked up her bags, walking out of the apartment, catching a taxi and heading home.

She sighed softly when her head finally fell back onto her pillow, Michelangelo sleeping soundly at the foot of the bed.

_He didn't do it to hurt you._

A tiny voice whispered at her from a small, deep little crevice in the back of her mind.

_He didn't do it to prove anything, or to show off_.

She wanted to argue with the little voice, to tell it that it was _wrong_, that Wilhelm was wrong too, that everyone was wrong.

_You nearly did it, didn't you_.

_You nearly let him in. Through the last barrier, the one that you locked even Jacques out of_.

She rolled over in bed, sleep so tempting but not coming. Things had changed so much in the past year since she met Darcy. _She_ had changed. He had opened her up, like a one of those Russian Matryoshka dolls, taking another Ella out of each layer, and there was only one left, and he wanted to see it.

She drifted off into sleep, awakening in the afternoon with a heavy head and heart to match. She couldn't call him. Not yet.

She winced when she realised that she would still have to perform with him the next day, at a televised Charity event that a large number of bands were performing in, in order to raise money for children with leukaemia. She didn't want to, but she knew that she couldn't do it. It would be too hard. Millions of people would be watching, and thousands attending, and she just _knew_ that she would explode at Darcy in front of them all. She couldn't put herself, _or_ Darcy through it.

'So why hadn't _he_ called?' she thought to herself as she fixed a cup of tea. He was the one who had made a mistake; _he_ was the one who needed to make the first move. She couldn't deny it, she was angry with him. He hadn't asked her, he had simply gone ahead and put something very private into a song. It was so stupid of him!

But, she had to admit, it _did_ make everything click together. The music they had created was amazing. It had started off as his crazy plan to see her, but it had produced something amazing.

She smiled softly into her mug of tea. Things had been better. A lot better than they had ever been. But she still couldn't make the leap, she couldn't sing with him.

She unsteadily picked up her phone, and searched the names in her phonebook. She found Craig Mathews' number, her agent. She nervously pressed the green 'call' button and raised it to her ear, listening to the ringing with great trepidation.

"That you Ella?" was the familiar greeting of Craig when he finally picked up.

"Hey, yeah, it's me," she replied.

"I suppose you're calling about tomorrow then!" he said brightly.

"Yes… umm, about that, Craig, there's something I have to –" she began, clenching and unclenching her fist to calm herself down.

"Relax honey, Darcy called me and cleared everything up," Craig said cheerfully.

"Umm, really?" Ella questioned in disbelief. "Wow, I… well…" she trailed off, her mind spinning.

"Everything okay love?"

"Yeah, fine…" she muttered. "I'd best be off, see you later Craig," she finished, before hanging up, and placing the phone down on the kitchen table.

What the hell had just happened?

~*~

Ella ended up going to the concert. It wasn't a terribly formal affair, in a park, actually, and most people were sitting around on picnic blankets. She went with Charlie, Jayne, Malcolm and May, sitting a fair bit from the front where things weren't as hectic.

"You know, you _could_ call him," Malcolm suggested to her.

"Hmm… shutup Malcolm," Ella replied, staring determinedly at the stage. A few acts had already played, most of them she didn't know, but enjoyed regardless.

"I'm serious, Ella," he said sternly.

"Ooh, did you get that May?" Ella questioned, turning her head to face May, who was sitting beside Malcolm, her head leaning on his chest. "He says he's serious. On a scale of one to bullshit, how bullshit do you think that is?" she asked sarcastically. May laughed, but Malcolm only rolled his eyes.

"He's probably kicking himself. I saw that guy dive fully clothed into a pool and perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation for about ten minutes for you, he's not going to get over it," he objected.

"Well good. He can kick himself for a little while. I'd like to see that display of flexibility," she replied lazily, sipping a can of soft drink that Jayne had provided, along with a picnic basket filled with goodies. She had been so very happy ever since the engagement was back on, and making lunch for her friends and family was no issue for her.

"Malcolm's right, Ella," Jayne said. Ella turned her head to glance over at her cousin with a curious expression on her face. "He's probably feeling terrible," she pointed out.

"If he were feeling terrible it would be an easy thing to pick up a phone and call me, and to delete seven seconds of sound from a CD," she replied.

"I dunno Ella, I heard the track, it sounds pretty good like it is," Charlie pointed out. He was sent a quiet glare from Ella, before he silenced himself. "Sorry," he sheepishly muttered.

"Let's just forget about it and enjoy the show, okay?" Ella snapped finally, brushing a curl from her face. She sighed, and continued to watch a new band perform a song that had been blasted around radios for a few weeks to complete excess. She wasn't really watching, or listening. She couldn't help but think about Darcy.

She was so _angry_ with him, but she was also angry at herself. He had done it without her permission, but she hadn't been able to look past it, she had been so caught up in what he had done that she couldn't think straight.

Maybe it _was_ about time that she called him.

She stared at her phone, before she put it away. She would call him the moment she got home; she wouldn't be able to hear him over all of the music playing.

She ended up lying back on the picnic blanket, her head in Jayne's lap, listening to the music quietly for over an hour. She said a few things when questions were asked of her, she would make an occasional comment in the conversation, but her head was still spinning, and in the eye of the cyclone was Darcy's face. She was planning what she would say. She was thinking.

"Umm… Ella?" came a nervous squeak. Ella's eyes opened. She had heard the crowd go wild, so crazy that she hadn't even heard the announcement of which artist was playing.

"What?" Ella questioned May, who had spoken.

"You may want to have a look at the big screen," she said, swallowing anxiously.

Ella sat up, rubbed her tired eyes, and looked ahead at the stage, where an absolutely huge LCD screen was set up so that people at the back could see the performers. She couldn't believe who she was seeing on it.

"I thought he didn't perform," Jayne muttered.

"I thought that he cancelled," Malcolm added.

"I thought he needed _you_ to play the songs that you guys wrote," Charlie continued.

"I don't believe it," Ella muttered quietly, softly.

It was _Darcy_, standing up there, looking nervous and awkward, his 'people' mask up to hide his anxiety, a guitar strung around his neck. The quiet quietened as he approached the mic, tapping it awkwardly. He had a backing band behind him, who were waiting to begin.

"Err… you won't know the words to this one," he informed the crowd, who were listening with great anticipation. "This is for Ella. I love you," he muttered quickly, stepping back from the mic, and beginning to strum the guitar.

But Ella was already standing up, and cursing her choice in seating, so very far from the stage.

So she ran.

"_Tired, you think you've got the stuff_

_You're telling me and anyone_

_You're hard enough_

_Don't have to put up a fight_

_Don't have to always be right_

_Let me take some of the punches,_

_For you tonight_…"

She dodging picnickers and plastic chairs, her eyes glued ahead of her. She moved with haste, or as much haste as she could in such a crowded place.

"_Listen to me now, _

_I need to let you know,_

_You don't have to go it alone_

_And it's you when I look in the mirror_

_And it's you when I pick up the phone_

_Sometimes you can't make it on your own_"

His words filled her head. The song was amazing. She glanced up at him on the big screen, for a man who had most likely never performed before, he looked like a natural. He was involved only with the music, forgetting everyone else in the world.

Except Ella.

"_We fight all the time,_

_You and I, that's alright,_

_We're the same soul_

_I don't need_

_I don't need to hear you say_

_That if we weren't so alike,_

_You'd like me a whole lot more_"

She was getting closer to the stage. The groups of people were closer together, and it was getting harder to get through. A few people recognized her, and began to shout out, begging for autographs. Ella kept on running.

"_Listen to me now, _

_I need to let you know,_

_You don't have to go it alone_

_And it's you when I look in the mirror_

_And it's you when I pick up the phone_

_Sometimes you can't make it on your own_"

She began shoving past people, trying to squeeze her way through the crowd. She had never been so thankful as to her small size. She was nearing the stage; she could catch glimpses of security figures and white gates that separated the crowd from the backstage area.

"_I know that we don't talk_

_I'm sick of it all_

_Can you hear me when I sing your reason?_

_I sing, you're the reason why the heart is in me,_

_Well hell now, still got to let you know,_

_A house doesn't make a home,_

_Don't leave me here alone_"

"Yes, yes, I'm Canterbury! Let me through!" she cried, pushing past the last of the eager spectators, using her popularity to get through the crowd.

"You can't come back here, Miss," came a stern voice, when she practically ran into the front of a security guard, clad in black and gold polyester.

"I'm Canterbury Zimmerman, the lead singer of Kipling, and I _have_ to get back there!" she cried angrily, making a move to push past the entire one-hundred-and-sixty pounds of flesh in front of her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't let you through without a security pass," he objected.

"I'm on the list thingo! I was going to be _performing_ here tonight!" she cried.

"And what name would you be listed under?" the man asked, pulling forwards a clipboard, and scanning the contents.

"Do you have an original copy of that list, as in one that you were given yesterday?" Ella questioned anxiously, her eyes searching Darcy's face, who was staring either at the ground, or at his backing band, he didn't even know she was there.

"I… err, yes," the man said, turning towards a small table by the white fence, which had another pile of papers.

The moment he turned his back Ella jumped over the fence. She was very grateful for all of those gymnastics lessons that gave her the agility necessary for such a mission.

"Hey, that's illegal!" the guard called angrily, but Ella didn't give a damn.

"_And it's you when I look in the mirror_

_And it's you when I pick up the phone_

_Sometimes you can't make it on your own_

_Sometimes you can't make it,_

_Best you can do is to fake it,_

_Sometimes you can't make it on your own_"

He finished the song by stepping back from the mic, a strange expression of sadness on his face as the crowd went wild. He raised his head, adoring fans all screaming his name as loudly as they could, but he didn't care.

"Will!" came a familiar cry from one of the wings. He turned to the side of the stage, his eyes locking onto a figure he thought he might never see again.

"Ella!" he cried, pulling off his guitar. But before he had a chance to do anything other than put it on the ground, the lithe form of Ella was rushing towards him.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and pulled her up to his face, her feet leaving the ground and her lips meeting his in a kiss that was televised around the planet – millions of people seeing the famous recluse Wilhelm Darcy snog the slightly eccentric, and finally happy Canterbury Zimmerman senseless.

"I forgot to tell you," Ella whispered, when she pulled away from him just enough for her lips to be free, their foreheads still touching, his eyes half closed.

"Tell me what?" Wilhelm asked softly, holding her even tighter.

"I love you."

His eyes snapped open and met hers in incredulous wonder, a smile creeping onto his face.

And so he kissed her.

And he kissed her again.

And again, and again, and again.

And millions of people watched them finally find each other.

Not one of them changed the channel.

**A/N: Well… almost finished now :D Which means it's really important that you vote on my author's page for my next story, I'm going to leave it open for a little while longer, but I want to know what you want to read. In the meantime, I may post some one-shots and that, so keep your eyes peeled :D please review to show your love :D**


	46. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, we all knew it would come to this. **

**Disclaimer: Pride and Prejudice is not mine, obviously. Songs mentioned in this chapter are as follows:**

**Hold me Tight – Missy Higgins**

**Young Folks – Peter, Bjorn and John**

**Speechless – The Veronicas (yeah, I know, kind of bleugh, but they amuse me… and it's a good song)**

**The Sound of White – Missy Higgins**

_One year later_

Ella weaved her way past busy people walking down the streets of London in business suits with ties and miserable expressions, heading towards her favourite café.

The weather was still warm, and she wore a casual pale pink baby doll dress with blue jeans from Anne Bourg's new line of clothing, she had finally been able to go after her dreams when her relationship with her adopted mother fell through and she gained independence.

She took a seat in her booth, smiling at the familiar face of the manager as she pushed aside the small '_reserved_' sign and sat down, ordering a cup of tea as she waited.

She didn't have to wait for long. The reporter arrived, a slightly familiar face that rung a few bells in Ella's head.

"Hello there, I'm Ginny, I interviewed you early last year," she smiled, taking a seat.

"Oh! Yes, hello again," Ella greeted, smiling, and shaking her hand.

"Nice place here, very sweet," Ginny commented, sitting down opposite Ella. She ordered a cup of coffee and pulled out a few things, a tape recorder, a few notepads, and some pens as they waited for the drinks.

They were delivered, and after sampled and tasted, the interview began.

"So. The new album," Ginny began, as Ella nodded.

"Well, it's called 'In a time of Madness', and it's our first with Mayumi Eden, who has just celebrated her marriage to the lead guitarist of The In Section," she began. "It's got some happier things in it, it was co-written by Mayumi and I," she explained.

"And Kipling's re-invention, do you think that you're selling out?" Ginny questioned, scribbling things down as Ella spoke. She only laughed.

"Selling out? We're doing anything but," she replied. "We're becoming more creative. We're singing about happier things. It's not selling out, because we aren't getting paid to do it this way, we get paid if people like it, and they do, according to the record company," she explained.

"I loved some of the tracks on there; my favorites were 'Hold me Tight', 'Young Folks' and 'Speechless'. Was it timed with the release of your husband's new album; 'Goodnight', or was this just a coincidence?" she asked.

"Not really, it just happened," Ella replied, shrugging, and sipping her tea.

"And the name of his album, it's been suggested that he might be retiring," she probed.

"I don't know, you'd have to ask him," Ella answered cheekily.

"How did you handle your cellist leaving Kipling to get married, when she ended up divorcing six months later when she found out she was pregnant?" Ginny questioned curiously, still scribbling down her responses.

"We respected what Carmen did, she's happy, and she has a beautiful little boy to be proud of now," Ella smiled.

"So. This time last year you and Darcy took the world by storm, kissing at the Music for a Cure festival in London," Ginny began, with a grin.

"Yes… we certainly announced our relationship with a bang," she laughed in response.

"And you were married not long after that, what's it like living in a household of two creative minds? Are you two always clashing on everything? Comparing album sales to get one up on the other?" she asked curiously.

"Not really. We care about the music, not how popular it is," she replied simply, sipping her tea.

"Can I just say that you look fantastic," Ginny complemented, as Ella blushed softly, and placed a conscientious hand on her slightly enlarged stomach.

"Thanks," she replied, with a small smile.

"I'm serious, I've had three kids – when I was five months I looked like a complete wreck, you just look like you've got a water balloon under your shirt," she continued. "Do you have any idea if it's a boy or a girl yet?" she asked, but Ella only smiled softly.

"You've had children. Surely you know that you can't find out until the sixth month," she replied slyly.

"Mother's intuition. It's always dead on," Ginny countered, before laughing. "Okay, you won't tell, that's fine," she replied, giving in. "Any name idea's yet?" she asked, scribbling a few things down as she went.

"Well, Apple and Banjo is taken, so we're running out of options," Ella laughed. "Not yet, but we'll think of something," she added, softly rubbing her stomach.

"You're not even twenty-four yet, and your husband is already thirty-two. Do you find the age gap a problem?" she asked.

"Not really, we're still both very immature," she joked.

"Do you think you're a bit young for a baby? That this might be a bit soon?" she questioned, looking at Ella intently.

"Well, we'd been married about seven, maybe eight months, and sure, some people put it off, but we decided that we both really wanted this, and… here it is!" she said, patting her stomach softly.

"After your marriage to Darcy there was a lot of publicized dispute coming from Darcy's Aunt, Catherine Bourg, owner of Rosings Mobiles," began Ginny. "Did that make you feel bad about marrying him?" she asked.

"I don't regret a minute of it," Ella replied instantly. "She wasn't happy with it, but I didn't care, and neither did Darcy. We're happy, and that's all that matters," she informed her.

"You lost your father just before the recording of your new album. That was the influence for '_Sound of White_', wasn't it?" she asked curiously.

"In a way, I suppose. I started writing the song a year ago, after Darcy and I had recorded 'Aureus', it was a response to an event that happened between the end of the recording and the concert in London, but I finished it after the death of my father," she explained, her voice growing smaller with a painful memory.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, did it effect your family greatly?" she asked carefully. Ella sighed, and shrugged.

"A death always does. But we knew it was going to happen, he was strong up until the end, and I have many happy years to remember him with," she replied.

"Where do you think your music is going to be headed over the next few years?" Ginny asked curiously, but Ella only shrugged, and let a grin slide onto her face.

"I'm not sure. We like surprises, everyone in the band," she explained. "We just have to wait and see," she added, with a twinkle in her sparkling blue eyes.

"Well, I suppose that's all I need, and our time is unfortunately up," Ginny said, turning off her tape recorder. "It was a pleasure to see you again Canterbury," she said, shaking her hand, taking her things, and leaving. Ella drained the last of her tea and followed suit, walking across the road to the gleaming black building, silver letters reading DARCY INTERNATIONAL up the side.

She headed upstairs by the elevator to the top floor, the doors opening with a soft chime.

"Hey Chris, is my husband alive in there?" Ella asked, heading over to the front desk of the floor, outside the large doors leading to the office of the CEO.

"Depends what you classify as alive," Chris replied with a grin, glancing up at the familiar face. "Jeez, he did a good job then," he said, glancing at her stomach. Ella rolled her eyes with a laugh, and Chris raised his arms in surrender, in case she pulled a very quick response. "Just kidding hun, you don't even look like you're knocked up," Chris replied. "Go on in, surprise him for me," he said finally.

"Thanks Chris," she replied, before heading over to the doors, and pushing one open.

He was seated behind his desk as usual, going through papers and crosschecking numbers with a spreadsheet on his laptop in his shirtsleeves.

"Fuck off Chris, I have enough work," he said, not looking up.

"Hmm, is 'Chris' some sort of pet name?" Ella teased, heading over to his desk. He looked up immediately, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"Sorry darling, I thought it was my sniveling sidekick," he replied, dropping his sheets immediately and standing. In a manner of seconds his arms were wrapped around his wife, the soft bulge of her stomach between them.

"Hmm… do I get a cape?" Ella joked, pressing a kiss to his lips as one of his hands moved up to rest on her stomach.

"Just as long as you're not wearing your underwear on the outside," Wilhelm replied, giving her another kiss. "How did the interview go?" he asked, stepping back and leaning against his desk.

"The usual stuff," Ella shrugged. "And your day?" she asked curiously.

"Err… dull," he admitted. "Want to play hooky with me?" he asked playfully, as Ella's eyes twinkled.

"Just as long as it doesn't involve you getting distracted by 'something that we should get for the baby'," she said sternly, before he frowned, and wrapped his arms a little tighter around her.

"You aren't still grumpy with me, are you?" he questioned softly, tilting his head as he surveyed the familiar appearance of his wife. "A baby is a _good_ thing. You should be happy," he said, brushing a strand of her chocolate coloured locks back.

"I know, and I shouldn't hate you for impregnating me, because it was my fault too," she sighed.

"As I recall, if was a bit of a combined effort," he added teasingly. "Come on, smile for me angel," he requested, leaning his forehead against hers and kissing her nose softly, a slight grin threatening the pout upon her lips.

"I'm happy, I really am," she told him firmly.

"Well I'm ecstatic about Darcy Junior – and glad that you're happy," he replied.

"You mentioned playing hooky?" she questioned, her grin growing ever so slowly.

"Mmm," he mumbled in way of response, gently kissing a place just under her earlobe.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked, arching a cheeky grin.

"Well…" he responded, slightly tugging at his lip with his teeth, and pulling her even closer to his body, one hand cupping the side of her baby bump, the other sliding into the back pocket of her jeans. "I had this idea…" he whispered huskily in her ear.

"Care to tell me?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow in the manner that she knew he found completely irresistible.

"We really need –" he began, slowly kissing her neck with obvious intent.

"We really need what?" she questioned, burying one small hand in his dark mass of hair.

"To buy another bassinet for the London house."

She immediately stepped back from him, and placed her hands on her hips, glaring up at her husband of almost a year in irritation.

"You're such a loser," she informed him pointedly, but he only grinned.

"I've got you, darling," he replied, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

"And does that make you any less of a loser?" she countered, crossing her arms to separate him from getting any closer to her.

"Well, I obviously didn't lose if I have you," he informed her with a small grin. It caught on, and soon Ella was smiling too.

"Well, at least you're my loser," she sighed happily, rising to the tips of her toes, and kissing his mouth softly.

"I'm serious though, we need to get a bassinet," he reminded her, breaking their kiss for a moment. "And a pram. I had a look online, I think we should get one of those –" he continued, before Ella pressed her lips against his again, silencing all conversation. "Or we could do this…" he murmured, smiling into her mouth.

"I vote for the latter," she grinned, pushing him against his desk.

From outside Darcy's office, Chris gave a small smirk. Over the past year he had gotten used to the sounds of arguing, laughing and physical recreation coming from behind the closed doors. He placed the file back on his desk, and decided to give it to his boss later. It could wait.

Finis.

**A/N: That was the last chapter! We all knew it had to end, and ended it has. I may write a sequel, but I doubt it. So if anyone wants to write any one-shots or sequels or even prequels for it just PM me, and we'll work something out :D **

**I'd just like to thank everyone who reviewed, added me to their favourites, and even read, it means **_**so**_** much to me to know that other people like it. **

**The poll on my author's page is still open, so please vote for what you want me to write next! At the moment 'Sweet Lolita' is winning, so I'm working on that right now. **

**Once again, thank you all so much. If you're reading this right now then thank you from the bottom of my heart :D **


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